Remember (Phan)
by phanoutlet
Summary: Dan doesn't remember starting YouTube. He doesn't remember writing a book. He doesn't remember going on tour. And worst of all, he doesn't remember Phil. *Basically, the same plot as The Vow. Creative, I know... (Mixed Dan/Phil POV)
1. Chapter 1

**DAN P.O.V**

My head felt like it was about to explode. I could _hear_ the blood pumping furiously around my brain; obnoxiously loud and painfully aggressive.

I tried to open my eyes but flinched when they were assaulted by a blinding white light, which sent stabs of pain through my head. I barely had time to adjust to the brightness when I was immediately engulfed in somebody's arms.

"Oh, thank goodness!" I heard them say, the sound muffled slightly against my chest.

With the embrace came the pleasing aromas of coconut and shampoo, which provided a brief reprieve from the sharp smell of disinfectant that hit me when I first woke up.

Disinfectant. Bright white lights. My heart jumped into my throat as I realised: I was in a hospital.

 _What was going on?_

The person pulled back and I was slightly alarmed to see that I didn't recognise him. He was young, probably mid to late twenties, with dark charcoal hair and fair blue eyes.

My initial thought was, 'wow, the nurses here are so friendly,' but then I noticed that he wasn't wearing a nurse's uniform. Or a doctor's uniform even. And the way he was looking at me was far too familiar for him to simply be my nurse or my doctor.

"Damn it, Dan. You scared me half to death!" He breathed in relief, letting out a nervous chuckle. I stared at him wide eyed. I'd never met this person before. Why was he acting like I had? Who was this guy? Why was I here? What was happening?

I tried to remember what happened before I got here but my mind completely drew a blank. I couldn't think of a single thing that would have led to me ending up in a hospital. I couldn't recall anything for that matter. My thoughts were all jumbled and chaotic and fuzzy and confusing. It hurt to even think.

I tried to choke back the rising hysteria but I wasn't doing a great job. I scooted further up my bed, away from the dark haired stranger, and started frantically tugging at my hair. "I – How - What's going on?" I spluttered in a panic. The pressure in my head was growing more and more intense as the questions started piling up. I shut my eyes against the pain.

"Hey, hey, Dan. Calm down. It's okay. Everything's okay." I felt a pair of hands wrap around my wrists and gently return them to my sides. I opened my eyes and blinked blearily up at the stranger. "It's alright." He said again, quietly. He was still holding my hands.

I wanted to flinch away, scream at him, tell him to let go... but I didn't. His voice was soothing. Calming. It seeped in through my ears and worked wonders to dull the panic that had set in.

"You're in the hospital. You had a little accident, but you're fine now." He said slowly, his thumb tracing light, comforting circles on the inside of my forearm. "Everything's going to be fine."

My heart nearly stopped. "W-what kind of an accident?" I asked, my voice sounding scratchy and strained.

"You were, uh… hit by a car." he said, eyes glazing over. "I saw it happen. It was… not pleasant." He finished lamely. He looked as if the memory of it was still bitter in his mouth. Sour to the taste.

So he was the one that called the ambulance? That made a bit more sense. I guess it explained why he was here checking up on me. He was being a good Samaritan and seeing that I made it out okay.

Although it didn't explain the level of relief he expressed when I woke up. Or the familiarity with which he embraced me. Or the fact that he was currently holding my hands. Perhaps he was just overly friendly?

I didn't complain about that last one though. I should have, but it was just so damn calming. It was the only thing keeping me together. I concentrated on the comforting sensation, putting all of my energy into regulating my breathing.

I took a moment to observe my surroundings. There were other beds in the room but none of them occupied. The small bedside table to my right was cluttered with a variety of objects: balloons, flowers, photos, cards. All displayed messages along the lines of 'get well soon'. I smiled at the largest card that sat on the table, able to see from this angle that it was signed from my parents and my brother.

The smile slipped from my face when I registered one of the photos. Most were of me and my family from when I was younger. But one of them in particular leapt out at me.

I snatched my hands out of the stranger's and picked up the small frame to be sure I wasn't seeing things. I looked up to the stranger then back to the photo. It was definitely him. A photo, that I had clearly taken, of me and _him_.

"Oh, yeah. I brought some of your pictures up, I hope you don't mind. I thought they could brighten up the place. Make you smile when you woke up." He said, smiling slightly himself as he did. He was looking at the picture in my hands, clearly remembering what I clearly wasn't.

"Who the fuck _are_ you?"

I regretted the bluntless of my words almost immediately. He recoiled, as if I'd just slapped him in the face. "I – uh... what?" he stuttered, clearly just as confused as I was. Perhaps not _as_ confused, no. Nobody was as confused as I was in that very instant. I was mayor of fucking confusion.

I stared at him as I waited for a response. Meanwhile the panic was beginning to resurface within me. "Dan, quit messing about. This isn't funny." He said uncomfortably. He studied my face intently, clearly desperate for a sign that I was joking.

I wasn't fucking joking.

"You're – you're being serious." A combination of absolute shock and undeniable hurt registered on his face. If I weren't so frenzied myself, I would have felt sorry for him. "Tell me you're not being serious." He pleaded, though I think he already knew my answer.

He staggered to his feet, breath coming out harsh and ragged. He still hadn't answered my question and I was starting to get frustrated.

"Do I know you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**PHIL P.O.V**

Retrograde amnesia. That's what they said he had, and it meant absolutely nothing to me. It didn't make any sense. I couldn't wrap my head around it.

How could he forget about me?

The lump in the back of my throat refused to go away. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to smash something. But more than anything I just wanted him to _remember_.

The way Dan looked at me, with panic and confusion and with no recognition whatsoever - it hurt. It physically hurt me. It felt like I'd been stabbed. Not that I know what that feels like. But the pain that pierced me, ripping through my entire body when he asked who I was, I'd imagine it feels something like that.

This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. This kind of thing only happened in movies and rubbish soap operas. It didn't happen in real life, to real people. It just… didn't.

"Where is he? Can I see him?" Dan's mum had just arrived, and judging by the worry in her voice, as opposed to the joy that should have been there at the knowledge that her son was awake, she'd been informed of the situation.

I shook my head. "The doctors are seeing to him now. No one's allowed in." I said emotionlessly. Which was why I was anxiously pacing back and forth outside his door instead of inside with Dan, begging him to remember me.

She nodded her head, swallowing. "He doesn't remember… anything?" she asked, pleadingly. She looked at me with hopeful eyes. As if I was going to laugh and say 'Fooled ya! It was all a joke! Your son's perfectly fine!'

Instead, I sighed. "I don't know." And I didn't know. I didn't know how much of his memories Dan had. That's what the doctors were trying to get a gauge on at that very moment. But I knew one thing for sure. "He doesn't remember me, though." I said, my voice breaking.

"Oh, Phil." She whispered, her eyes softening as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around me. She was a lot shorter than me, so I bent down a little so I could hug her back properly.

I didn't cry though. I wanted to, and I could feel the tears coming, but I knew that if I started crying I wouldn't stop. So I held them back, for the time being at least.

And that's how we stayed. For how long I couldn't say for sure. I was glad that she was there. That I had someone who understood what I was going through, and felt what I was feeling. I'd always gotten on well with Dan's mum, but she'd never felt so much like a second mother to me than she did in that exact moment.

We finally broke apart when the doctor told us we could go in. Dan was sat up on his bed, fidgeting with the sheets and his expression guarded. That is, until he saw us walk in.

His face immediately split into a large grin. "Mum!" he exclaimed. Dan's mum made an audible choking sound somewhere between shock and relief. She'd clearly been preparing for the worst.

She ran over to Dan and pulled him into a tight hug which he responded to with enthusiasm. "Oh my boy. My baby boy. You scared me so much." She said, in between the myriad of kisses she placed on his forehead and cheeks.

Dan glanced around at the doctors and nurses still in the room and his face flushed slightly. "Mum." He mumbled in protest, though he was smiling. I, too, was smiling at the happy reunion before me. Until I remembered my not so happy reunion, and the smile slipped from my face as quickly as it had appeared.

So he didn't forget _everything_. That was good. But I couldn't help but feel a little bitter. Suddenly that bond that I'd built with Dan's mum only moments earlier was severed. Dan remembered _her_. It was just me that he forgot.

I was overcome with a crippling sense of loneliness. I was completely alone in my pain now. Excluded from the happy scene before me I stood awkwardly by the door, not entirely sure what to do with myself. Although I had spent hours of everyday over the last month in this very hospital room, I suddenly felt like I wasn't welcome there. Like I was intruding.

There was a period of silence after Dan's mum had transitioned from suffocating him in her arms to simply holding his hand as she sat in the chair next to him. Dan's eyes met mine and he hesitated slightly before speaking. "So… uh, who are you?" he asked me again.

Though his tone was far more gentle now, apologetic even, the question ripped through me. I couldn't speak; I'd actually lost the ability to talk. _I couldn't do this_.

Dan's mum must have sensed my predicament. "That's your friend Phil. You remember Phil, don't you, bear?" She asked him, encouragingly.

Dan looked at me thoughtfully. I already knew his answer, and I didn't think I could handle having it confirmed to me again. It would only push the knife further into my heart. Dan shook his head slowly, and not only did it drive the knife further in - it twisted it mercilessly.

"I'm sorry." Dan said frowning slightly, but I was still unable to respond. What would I say anyway? _It's okay?_ None of this was okay! It was the furthest thing from okay!

The doctors talked to Dan's mum for a bit about Dan's health and possible treatment. And when asked about whether the memory loss was permanent they responded with, "We just don't know at this point." Some doctors they were.

The whole time I stood awkwardly in the corner, leant against the wall and with my head down. Should I leave? What do I do? To Dan I was a complete stranger but to me, Dan was my world. I didn't know what the appropriate course of action was.

I was only half listening to the conversation at this point until something Dan's mum said snapped me out of my thoughts. "I think it'd be best if you came home with me."

I wanted to argue but I realised with sadness that it wasn't my place anymore. Besides, she was only doing what she thought was best. And she was probably right. Dan wouldn't want to go back to a foreign apartment with a total stranger. So I kept my mouth shut, as much as it pained me to do so.

Dan nodded at her suggestion. "Rather that than my depressing dorm." He chuckled bitterly. Dan's mum looked a little taken aback, as if she'd forgotten about the memory loss for a second.

"Honey, you dropped out of uni. A few years ago actually."

It was Dan's turn to look shocked. Shocked, but not necessarily upset. "Really? So no more law, huh? Can't say I'm going to miss it." He laughed. "Where do I live, then?"

Dan's mum met my eyes as she said, "You live with Phil." Dan's eyes flicked up to me too, but I couldn't hold his gaze for very long. I gave him a feeble, half-hearted smile before hastily resuming my staring at the floor, biting my lip to keep from screaming.

Dan's next words seemed too good to be true. I was almost positive that I had misheard them.

"Then I should go with Phil."


	3. Chapter 3

**DAN P.O.V**

The journey to Phil's – our – apartment was long and awkward. Phil tried to make small talk but he was clearly on the verge of bursting into tears and it was making me incredibly uncomfortable.

I mostly just watched him talk and nodded where appropriate. Now that I was getting a longer look at him I realised that he did look vaguely familiar. I still didn't remember ever meeting him before but I could have sworn I recognised him from somewhere else...

"You make YouTube videos!" I exclaimed when it finally hit me, interrupting Phil mid-sentence as I did so. He wore glasses now and his hair was shorter, but it was most definitely him. How could I have missed it? "Holy shit, you're AmazingPhil!"

His eyes instantly lit up. "You remember me?" he asked hopefully.

"Well…no. Not, exactly." I said guiltily, cursing myself for getting his hopes up. "I remember watching your videos though. I'm subscribed to you."

"Oh…" he said simply. He looked like he didn't know how to react to that. As if he couldn't decide if this were a good thing or a bad thing.

For me, this was most assuredly a good thing.

"Fuck, I can't believe I'm meeting you. I mean I guess I've already technically met you…" I trailed off, face flushing at my own idiocy. Of course I'd already met him. He was at the hospital when I woke up. He was my emergency contact. We lived together for Christ's sake!

Also, can we just take a moment to appreciate that last one for a second. I had an apartment...with AmazingPhil. _AmazingPhil!_ I blushed even further as I strained to contain my inner fangirling. Which I failed to do.

"I'm such a big fan of your videos." I blurted out before I could stop myself. _Nice job there, Dan. Real fucking smooth_.

Phil simply stared at me incredulously. I knew I was making this situation even more awkward than before but I couldn't help myself. It's not everyday you meet your idol.

Luckily Phil didn't seem too creeped out. "Thanks, Dan." He said, chuckling slightly. Although he'd done it a couple of times already, my heart did a little somersault when he said my name. I really needed to calm down. "You make videos too, you know."

"Really?" I said in surprise. "Oh God, I bet they're awful." I'd always wanted to be somebody who posted videos but I never really had the confidence. Or the motivation for that matter.

Although the quality of the videos I'd supposedly been making was yet to be determined (for all I knew they could be complete shit), I couldn't help but feel a little proud of myself for actually going through with it.

Phil smirked at me. "What?" I said, suddenly panicked. The little bubble of joy that had formed in my chest burst as dread took its place. "Are they really that bad?"

Phil shook his head, now beaming from ear to ear. "No, it's not that." It wasn't a malicious grin, and I didn't paint him as one to take pleasure in others' misfortune, so I figured it couldn't be anything truly awful.

"What? What is it? Why are you smiling?" He held up a finger as if to say 'just wait one second' while his other hand fumbled in his pocket to pull out his phone. I couldn't see what he was doing on it but he soon handed it over to me.

My jaw dropped . "Six _million_ subscribers?" I turned to Phil, wide eyed and open mouthed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I looked back at the screen to check that I wasn't seeing things, but there it was: my YouTube channel, danisnotonfire, same as always, except now it had actual videos posted on it. And a seven digit subscriber count.

"Is this some sort of elaborate prank? I'm going to be so fucking pissed if it is." I warned him but he only laughed.

"No, no it's real, I promise. You have quite the fan base." I scrolled through the videos that I had on my channel, making a mental note to binge watch them all as soon as I got the chance. As I had no recollection of the last few years of my life I supposed video documentation was the next best thing, and would have to suffice for the time being.

"This is insane." I mumbled, still reeling from shock and disbelief. _Six million people_. I didn't even know that many people watched YouTube. I couldn't remember it ever being that big.

Phil was still smiling when I handed his phone back to him. It was refreshing to see him looking happy for a change. Pretty much the only vibe I'd received from him thus far was one of complete misery.

It was why I decided to go with him in the first place. He just looked so _sad_. So utterly broken. And I couldn't help but feel guilty because I was the cause of it. Obviously I didn't choose for this to happen. I had no say in any of this whatsoever. But still.

I felt a personal responsibility to somehow make it up to Phil. To apologise for the mess that I'd unintentionally dragged him into. And seeing the smile that broke out on his face when I said I'd go with him confirmed to me that this was the right way to go about doing that.

With each passing second I was even more pleased that I had made that decision. Now that Phil wasn't a complete stranger to me the idea of going back to his apartment didn't seem so terrifying. In fact, it was _exciting_. I felt as if I had yet to wake up; that this was all some sort of dream. This life that I'd manage to procure for myself seemed too good to be true.

Was I really roommates with Phil Lester? How did that even happen? When I tried to think back, to remember how we'd met, I came up empty. My earlier memories of my teenage years and my high school life were clear as crystal. But when I tried to move forward from there it all got a bit grainy.

The memories were like polaroid pictures that hadn't quite developed yet. I could just barely see the outlines, and I kept waiting for my brain to fill in the rest of the details... but it never did. My memories were stuck in a frustrating limbo, midway between complete clarity and utter obscurity.

And try as hard as I might the images simply refused to develop.

* * *

 **A/N - Ignore the minor timeline discrepancies :3 Although this isn't AU there will be some slight inconsistencies for literary purposes :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**PHIL P.O.V**

"So this is your room," I said to Dan, gesturing for him to enter. He did, eyes roaming over anything and everything, making sure to take it all in.

I stood anxiously in the door frame, waiting for the moment when he'd turn around and say that this was all too weird for him. That he was going to take his mum up on her offer and go live with her instead.

But Dan didn't say that. "It's nice," he commented, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. His eyes landed on his laptop and he cautiously picked it up and inspected it. "Is this mine?" he asked, looking up at me.

I simply nodded in response and continued watching him. His movements were cautious; apprehensive. He ran his hand once over the top before opening it. "This is much flashier than the laptops I'm used to," he mumbled.

He frowned and turned the laptop toward me, showing me the locked home screen. "I don't suppose you know my password?"

"Danye2020," I replied automatically. Dan simply looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Capital D."

"Why the fuck," Dan said, as he typed it in anyway, "is that my password?"

I shrugged, smiling to myself. "Oh! I suppose you need to know everything else too," I said as I walked over to his desk. I opened the top draw and pulled out a pen and a stack of sticky notes to quickly jot down the usernames and passwords for all of his social media accounts.

I handed the note to Dan and he briefly skimmed over it. "You, uh, sure know a lot about me, huh?"

"Of course," I said simply. I knew everything about Dan. I knew Dan better than he knew himself.

But I wasn't about to say that. Pretty sure that telling someone you know every single detail about their existence was a sure fire way to scare them off. Useful tactic for the anti-social, but probably not the best approach for the current situation.

"How long have we known each other?" Dan asked me out of curiosity.

"Umm, around seven years now, I think," I said, trying to do the math in my head. "Yeah, seven years."

Dan stared at me. He looked sad all of a sudden, and I wasn't too sure what brought that on. Did I say something wrong? Was this too much to take in?

"I missed over seven years." he said quietly. His inflection made it sound more like a question than a statement. A question that didn't require answering, however, as he already knew that was the case.

But perhaps it was the way it was worded. Perhaps it was the shock of actually being given a numerical value. As it wasn't until that exact moment that he seemed to register the full extent of the situation.

Seven years. Just… gone.

Dan shifted the laptop onto the bed beside him and leant forward with elbows on knees and hands covering his face.

I didn't know what to do. I'd never been in a situation that even remotely prepared me to deal with something like this. I couldn't scarcely imagine what it must feel like. To wake up one day to find that you've missed out on almost a quarter of your life.

It was scary for me to even contemplate. It could only have been a million times more terrifying for Dan, who didn't have to imagine, because he was living it.

I sat down on the bed next to him and instinctively went to wrap my arm around him and pull him into a hug, but I stopped myself last minute. Was I allowed to do that kind of thing? Or would it make him uncomfortable? I just didn't know how to act anymore.

I settled for just awkwardly placing my hand on his back instead. Dan didn't react: didn't flinch away, didn't say anything. I took that as a good sign and breathed a sigh of relief.

I trailed my hand across his back, tracing soothing, looping patterns with my fingers. It was something that my mum used to do when I was younger, and was a habit that I eventually picked up. I would do it to Dan sometimes just when we were sitting watching TV or browsing through tumblr.

I had always found it comforting. And because I couldn't find the words to comfort him, I thought I'd give it a shot. It seemed to work; I felt his muscles relax slightly under my hand. But that was the only response that I got.

"I know. But it'll be okay. It will all work out okay," I said, not really thinking about the words coming out of my mouth. They were just empty words, there to fill the silence. Empty words conveying empty promises.

"Seven fucking years," Dan said again, his voice muffled by his hands. But the dejection in his tone was still audible.

I shook my head. "But it's not permanent. You'll remember eventually."

At this Dan sat back up and looked at me. He wasn't teary eyed, but was obviously emotional. He looked sad. Angry. Confused. And just plain lost. "You don't know that."

True. But I had hope, and that was enough. "I do know that," I lied, trying my best to sound confident. "You'll get your memories back. Just you wait."

I smiled encouragingly but only received a blank stare in return. "But what if I don't?" Dan asked.

"But you will."

"You can't know for-"

"You _will_ ," I said, cutting him off abruptly.

He was right, of course. It was impossible for me to know for sure. But there was absolutely no way that those memories could be lost forever. They had to still be there, somewhere. Hidden deep within his mind and only temporarily out of reach.

The alternative was too awful. Too dreadful to even consider. I'd already ruled that out as a possibility.

He _had_ to remember. He just had to. I was prepared to spend every second of every minute of every hour 'til the day I died, trying to trigger _something_ within his mind.

I needed him to remember.


	5. Chapter 5

DAN P.O.V

It seemed that everyone, me especially, was clueless as to what to do next.

I had a check up scheduled in with my doctor the day after I woke up. The physical trauma - the fractures, the bruises, the grazes - she knew how to deal with. That she could handle. But it wasn't so much the physical trauma that was the problem.

It was the several million neurons in my brain refusing to do their job that was the problem.

So she referred me to a clinical psychologist, who I was to see once every week for the foreseeable future. Doctor Pearsall was nice enough, and he seemed to know what he was doing (as opposed to everyone else) but the session, at least my first session, was not entirely helpful.

I didn't know what I was expecting. An uttered incantation, a wave of a magic wand and poof - hello memories? I understood that it was a process, that it would take time, but I was already getting frustrated. I was fed up with my stupid brain for not working properly.

Both my mum and Phil had accompanied me. The entirety of the session was mostly me being shown pictures of people and places and asked if I remembered them or not. It comprised of a lot of yes's and a lot of no's.

With each no I could sense Phil getting more and more dispirited. I don't know how I picked up on it; on the outside he was all smiles and words of encouragement. But I just knew that something was off. That this was just as painful for him as it was for me.

My mum had to leave early and so Phil and I were left to catch the train back to his apartment after the session was over. I was all of a sudden incredibly grateful that Phil had accompanied me. I'd been to London a fair few times but I was hardly an expert at navigating the Underground. Luckily, Phil was.

On my own it would have taken hours for me to find my way but following Phil it was taking no time at all. "Perhaps you could give me a tour sometime," I suggested as I trailed along next to him. With a little difficulty might I add. I'm usually a fast walker but Phil was powering along.

"Tour of what?" he asked, confused.

I gestured widely around us as if it were obvious. Which it was. "...of London."

It took Phil a moment before he understood. "Oh, right. I didn't realise." He looked at me apologetically and slowed his pace a little, but not by much. Not enough to resume the pace of a normal person. "Yeah. Maybe," he answered uncertainly. Reluctantly, even.

I was taken aback by that. I had assumed that would be something he'd totally be up for. He seemed so eager to help me adjust to my new life, so why did the thought of giving me a tour of the city seem so unappealing? I was a little disappointed by his reluctance. And a little annoyed.

"Well you don't have to," I snapped at him. "but now that you've realised I haven't a clue where I'm going the least you could do is slow down a bit."

At that Phil paused and swung around to face me. "Dan -"

But I didn't hear the rest of what he was going to say. He was abruptly cut off by a chorus of high pitched squealing, emanating from a pair of teenage girls. I looked around to see what had them so excited but couldn't for the life of me figure it out. Until they said my name.

"Oh my God, you're Dan and Phil! _The_ Dan and Phil!"

I was stunned speechless and looked to Phil for a little insight as to what the fuck was going on. He only glanced at me worriedly before turning to the girls with a beaming smile.

"Hi! How are you? It's so nice to meet you!" Phil said, automatically leaning in to hug both of them one at a time. The two looked at me questioningly, waiting for me to do the same. But I was frozen still. What the fuck was happening?

Phil looked between me and the girls and quickly jumped in. "Dan's still a little bruised. Hugging's off the table I'm afraid. He won't even let his mum hug him," he joked offhandedly, still grinning.

The girls bought it and smiled sympathetically at me. "Are you okay? How are you feeling? You didn't tell us you were out of hospital!" one of them said to me. I made no move to respond, still trying to process the situation.

"My bad," Phil said, saving me once again from having to talk. "I was meant to tweet about it last night. It must have slipped my mind."

The two jokingly teased Phil for his lousy memory (ironic, right?) and the three of them whipped up a friendly banter. Clearly this was not a first time occurrence for Phil as he was an absolute natural. He thanked them for watching our videos, asked them their names and how their day was. Not in the least bit caught off guard by these two strangers approaching him out of nowhere and seeming to know everything about him.

I stood awkwardly next to Phil internally freaking out. I didn't say anything. And I didn't have to, thank God. Phil did all the talking for the both of us. The girls kept glancing toward me expecting me to say something. And when I didn't they just smiled a little sadly and kept talking with Phil.

"Sorry to be a bother but would we be able to get a photo?" one of the girls asked, already pulling out her phone. She held it out to me and I simply stared at it.

Phil quickly reached out and took it from her instead. "Absolutely! No bother at all!" he said, as the girls went to stand between us. Phil looked at my pleadingly and mouthed 'smile' before lifting the phone up to take the picture.

I smiled weakly at the camera and then at the two girls as they took the phone back and said their goodbyes.

Phil's smile dropped as soon as they left. "I'm sorry." he said, although he really didn't have a reason to be apologising.

Only then did I realise how fast my heart was racing and I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. "Does that happen often?" I asked incredulously. Phil nodded and continued walking. At a far more reasonable pace this time.

"Is that why you were rushing? So we wouldn't get stopped?"

Phil sighed. "That was the plan."

"I supposed that's why you were reluctant to take me on a tour around London too?" Phil simply nodded again. I thought about it for a bit, replaying the last few minutes over in my head. It was bizarre, but once the shock had worn off, kind of cool as well.

"I reckon I could handle that. You're just going to have to prepare me a little better next time."

Phil laughed. "Greeting Fans 101?"

"Exactly."

 _Fans_. I had _fans._ What a weird world this was.


	6. Chapter 6

**DAN P.O.V**

It took a lot of time, mostly out of my sleep schedule, but I finally did it: I watched all of my videos.

They were good and I enjoyed them, but it was strange. He looked like me. He talked like me. He acted like me. But it wasn't me.

I was never that confident, or funny, or witty. The Dan in my videos was like a whole other person. I could see why so many people had subscribed, but what I couldn't comprehend was the fact that that guy was me.

I had planned on delving deeper into this new life of mine; of learning everything there was to know. But after finishing my YouTube binge I felt no desire to continue.

I felt sick, actually. I felt physically ill. You know that feeling you get when you're about to do something utterly nerve-wracking? Those unsettling butterflies that make you want to jump back into bed and completely shut out the rest of the world until they go away?

That was always my body's way of telling me that it wasn't comfortable with the situation. I never really had problems with anxiety. Never had panic attacks or anything. Just this sense of unease that plagued me. And it usually went away after a while. But this time around nothing I could do would get rid of it.

Everything seemed… _wrong_. I missed the lead up to this, and jumped straight from one life to another. And the vertigo that caused wasn't going away.

Perhaps I just needed time. Time to adjust. To think. To breathe. I closed the laptop and pushed it away from me and simply looked around the room. Not _my_ room. Just… the room. Until I settle into this life it remains nothing more than a random room in someone else's apartment.

And that someone was knocking at the door. After a half hearted 'yeah' of permission Phil poked his head around the side. He grinned at me and lifted up a plastic bag. "I got dinner!"

I sighed and got up off the bed, instantly wanting to fall back onto it. "Everything okay?" Phil asked, the smile slipping from his face. Again, a weight of guilt settled in my chest. I didn't want to upset him.

I forced a smile and nodded in response. "Yeah, just browsing YouTube."

Phil smirked at me. "Anything I might have seen?"

"I don't know. Have you heard of Danisnotonfire? He's pretty cool. And handsome too," I joked.

Phil chuckled as he led me into the kitchen. "Oh, him? Yeah, I know him. I think I'm subscribed, actually. He is pretty great." Phil beamed at me from the other side of the counter as I took a seat.

I momentarily felt a flood of warmth flow through me. Receiving a compliment from your idol was a wonderfully surreal feeling. But then I remembered that it wasn't really directed toward me, but toward the other Dan.

I coughed a little awkwardly, trying my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. "So… uh, what did you get?" I asked Phil, eyeing the bag.

Phil removed its contents and placed it before me in a 'ta-da' like fashion. I couldn't decide if this were a joke or not. Surely after living with me for almost five years Phil would be accustomed to the foods that I liked and disliked.

"Sushi?" I asked, eyebrows raised. I stared at the clear plastic containers and the unappetising combination of raw fish and seaweed they offered. "I don't like sushi."

"Maybe your taste buds have changed. Try it," Phil said, pushing the food closer to me.

"I don't think so," I replied, shoving it away and wrinkling my nose in disgust. "I'll just have a piece of toast or something."

"Daaaaan," Phil whined. "Please?"

He held a pair of chopsticks out to me and I sighed in defeat and tried it.

"It's… not terrible," I said, reluctantly. Very not terrible at all. Fucking amazing, actually. Not that I would ever confess that.

"Good." Phil beamed at me. "I'm glad you like it. I also thought that we could maybe watch some TV tonight?" he asked hopefully.

I had planned on retreating back to bed and sulking. But it was _Phil_. I couldn't say no to Phil. I'd only known him for a few days but God, it felt like years. Which it was, I guess. But… not. I don't know.

Phil had spent years with the other Dan and I'd spent years watching his YouTube videos. We both kind of already knew each other without having spent any time together. It was a weird and dysfunctional friendship that was forming but it worked and I loved it.

Phil was every bit as amazing (pun intended) as he seemed in his videos. He was just as upbeat and quirky and witty and friendly as I'd imagined him to be. And it still blew my mind that he found me just as interesting.

 _'It's not you he likes. It's the_ other _you,'_ my brain decided to chime in, twisting my stomach into a knot. And just like that I fell back into the pit of paranoia and unease.

"I don't know. I'm kind of tired. I might just head off to bed early," I said in a small voice.

"Really? That's not the Dan I know," Phil joked, making me feel even more queasy. I didn't say anything. Phil frowned at my response, immediately abandoning the teasing tone in his voice. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?" he asked.

I shrugged this time because honestly? I didn't even know anymore.

Phil looked at me with sympathy clearly painted across his face. "Well, if you can bare to stay awake for a little while longer I would really love the company."

He looked and sounded sincere as he said this, and I just didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps he really did want to spend time with me.

Me, not _him_.

"Okay," I said croakily, before clearing my throat and continuing. "So... what did you want to watch?"

Phil headed on over to the TV and rifled amongst the games and DVD's before tossing one of them to me (which I very nearly didn't catch, might I add.) I looked at the DVD in my hand and frowned when I didn't recognise it.

"What the fuck is Death Note?"


	7. Chapter 7

**PHIL P.O.V**

I was in the midst of a dilemma. Well, a minor dilemma in the midst of a massive dilemma.

I had planned on telling everyone when Dan woke up. I even had the tweet formed in my head. But this wasn't how I imagined everything going down. It wasn't a joyous reunion full of relief and excitement. It wasn't something that we could joke about or make a video about.

Telling people in the first place about Dan's accident was a hard enough decision to make. I knew there'd be panic and sadness and concern. But people would have quickly noticed Dan's absence from the internet. I couldn't _not_ give them an explanation.

Telling them about his recovery should have been easy though, but it was proving to be more difficult that I had anticipated. Because it wasn't a full recovery. I couldn't just tell everyone that Dan was fine.

Because he wasn't.

I had talked to Dan about it, about how he wanted to make his return, but he didn't seem all that pleased with that particular topic of conversation. Which was odd, because he seemed so excited at first about the following he had gained.

The girls that we ran into had posted the picture with me and Dan, saying how Dan was awake albeit a little out of it. The picture had gone viral and with its popularity came a flood of tweets directed at the both of us, asking for confirmation.

So now I had to post that tweet. I had to tell them that Dan was out of hospital. But it looked as though Dan wanted very little to do with his online life. How was I supposed to explain his continued absence?

I wasn't sure that telling people about the amnesia was the wisest move. And the idea of putting that out there into the online community felt entirely too exposing. The comments and questions that it would receive in response seemed almost invasive.

And so I sat at my laptop, typing and re-typing, playing around with different words and phrasing. I needed something that wasn't a complete lie. That granted Dan a longer leave of absence. That provided comfort rather than panic to our subscribers.

As I said… dilemma.

I chewed my lip perhaps a little too forcefully while I decided on what to say. In the end I settled for something incredibly basic. Something that you wouldn't think would have taken hours of meticulous thought to come up with.

 _Quick update: DAN IS BACK! Yay! A little dazed and still recovering but your favourite emo noodle is officially back on his feet :P_

I wasn't exactly satisfied. But it would have to do. With sweaty palms and a racing heart beat I clicked 'tweet'.

Just as I did I heard the front door open and Dan walked in. I closed my laptop and slid it off my lap, turning my full attention to Dan. "How was therapy?" I asked.

It was only Dan's second session, so I wasn't expecting too big of a change from last week, but I thought I'd ask anyway. Dan went with just his mum this time. I had asked if he wanted me to go too but he said no.

Not going to lie, it stung. It stung quite a bit. But if that's what made him comfortable then I wasn't about to argue, no matter how much it hurt.

Dan shrugged in response to my question, not properly giving me an answer but confirming to me that it wasn't good. If it was a good session he would have just said so. But he didn't. And his silence spoke volumes.

Dan made to head straight to his room but I spoke up before he could leave. "Hey, wanna play some Super Smash Brothers?" I said, smiling at him. Dan hesitated. "I dug my N64 out, so we can play it old school," I continued, trying to convince him to stay.

He looked torn. Like he didn't know what he wanted. It had been a week since Dan woke up, and I rarely ever saw him. Aside from his various appointments he spent the majority of his time locked up in his room. And it was really starting to worry me.

I couldn't understand why he was being so reclusive. Those few instances where I managed to convince him to leave his room to come eat some food or watch TV, he seemed fine. We would talk and laugh and have fun and it was almost like old times. But then he'd go right back to sulking in his room.

I didn't know what I was doing wrong. I was trying so hard but I felt like I was failing.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Dan nodded and sat down next to me. I liked that I could still get him to hang out with me. But I felt like I shouldn't have to persuade him. I shouldn't have to bribe him with games and food and movies. I wanted him to want to hang out with me. To leave his room at his own volition.

I forced a smile anyway and went to set up the game. "Thank you for doing this," I heard Dan say quietly.

I paused what I was doing and turned around to face him. "For... plugging in the N64?" I asked confused. "You're welcome?"

Dan chuckled slightly under his breath. "Not just that. For, you know... trying."

He didn't elaborate further. He didn't need to anyway. It was exactly what I had just been thinking about. For one bizarre moment I wondered if Dan's accident had given him the power of telepathy. I internally grinned at my ridiculous train of thought.

The grin didn't reach my face, however, when I saw the look on Dan's. He looked sad. I knew he was sad but he so rarely let me see it. The times he was out of his room he acted like everything was okay. I could always see through it obviously; I knew him too well. But in that moment he wasn't make any attempt to hide the sadness.

"How was therapy, Dan?" I asked him again, cautiously. I hated that I had to walk on egg shells around him but I had no other choice. I didn't know what else to do.

Dan looked down at his hands, fiddling them together in his lap. I waited patiently for him to respond, not wanting to push him. After a minute that felt like an hour Dan looked up at me with watery eyes.

"Why can't I remember?" he choked out. He looked at me almost pleadingly. But he wasn't asking for a literal answer to his question; for me to explain the exact neuroscience behind his inability to remember. It was more of a statement exclaiming that this wasn't fair.

My heart wrenched as I stood up from the floor and made my way back to the couch. I didn't stop to consider if it would make him uncomfortable, I just instinctively wrapped my arms around him and pulled his head into my chest. I stroked my hand up and down his back to soothe him, and found myself whispering "it's okay, you're okay," over and over again.

"It's not okay," Dan mumbled into my chest. "But thank you anyway." He accepted my hug without question. In fact he fisted his hands into the front of my shirt, desperately preventing me from pulling away.

He needn't have worried though. I wasn't going anywhere.


	8. Chapter 8

**DAN P.O.V**

"Really? And what did my mum think about me meeting up with a stranger I met online? I can't imagine she'd have been too pleased," I laughed.

"Nah, she was fine with it. You showed her some of my videos beforehand. And I said hi to her over skype a few times," Phil replied. "Your mum loves me," he added smiling that uniquely Phil smile of his where his tongue pokes out the side a little bit.

I chuckled and hit his shoulder playfully. We were lying on the bed facing each other, the only light in the room coming from the fairy lights draped across the headboard.

As the day had faded to night neither of us could be bothered to leave the comfort of the bed to go turn the light on. So the fairy lights had to suffice.

During my breakdown on the couch earlier Phil insisted on moving me to 'my' room. I tried to argue as I really didn't want to be in other Dan's room at that exact moment, but I was such a mess I couldn't find the words to explain what I meant by that.

But Phil had stayed with me and pulled me back into his arms and suddenly I no longer cared much about anything else.

"And then what happened?" I asked Phil, continuing on the conversation. We'd been like this for hours, just talking. Slowly, Phil was helping me to piece together the life that I'd forgotten. It was still painful but also therapeutic. It was far better than my sessions with Doctor Pearsall where I just left feeling frustrated.

I think I knew why it felt different with Phil; he had hope that I'd remember. Doctor Pearsall was nice but he was a realist. He never made false promises. I appreciated that but sometimes I just needed someone to tell me that it was going to be okay.

And Phil was that someone. Phil talked as if he was one hundred percent confident that I would remember. He had hope that I would settle into this life and that everything would work out fine. Hope. I didn't know that's what I needed until now.

I needed someone to have faith in me. And Phil did.

"We just walked around Manchester. Got some Starbucks. And ooh we went on the big wheel and… yeah. That's mostly it," Phil said, trailing off a little at the end. It seemed to me that he ended that sentence perhaps a little too abruptly. Like there was more he wanted to say but stopped himself.

I didn't push it, though, as I was too busy picturing it. Me finally meeting my idol in real life. I could imagine the excitement I must have felt. After all I felt it only a week earlier when I met Phil for the first time again.

"Was I happy?" I asked, closing my eyes and conjuring an image of it.

"Yeah, you were. I was happier though I think. I was so excited and nervous I was like, jumping all over you and clawing at you," Phil laughed. "Like a puppy."

I smiled. I wished I could remember; It sounded so perfect. But perhaps one day I would. I was hardly an optimistic person, with cynicism and pessimism being my default settings, but slowly and surely Phil was starting to rub off on me.

"And then we moved in together?"

"After a couple of years, yeah. But before that you practically lived at mine anyway. You would leave all of your stuff there," Phil smiled.

I was grateful that he was doing this. I'd figured out that it was around the time that I met Phil that my memories started to blur. So it was good that I had him there to help me work it all out and start filling in the blanks.

And while I was thinking about that grey area where my old life transitioned into my forgotten life I'd realised I'd forgotten about something major. A piece from my old life that I couldn't believe took me an entire week before I even thought about. But to be fair, I did have a lot of other things on my plate.

"What about Erin?" I asked.

"Erin?" Phil said, thrown off guard.

"My girlfriend," I replied, but realisation quickly dawned on me. "Or ex – girlfriend I'm guessing."

"Oh, right. You broke it off shortly after you started uni. The distance… it just didn't work out you told me." Phil said sympathetically.

"Oh." Well that was upsetting. I really liked Erin. I wondered if I was still in touch with her. Maybe I could call her up sometime, see if she wanted to hang out. "Do I have a girlfriend?" I asked Phil.

He shifted awkwardly and hesitated before answering. "Well… no." He cleared his throat a little, clearly having an internal debate over what to say next. "You, uh… have a… me." He said quietly, avoiding my gaze.

Huh.

Well that was… unexpected.

Phil quickly jumped in with reassurances. "I get how weird this all must be for you, I really do. And I don't want to pressure you into doing anything you're uncomfortable with. So for all intents and purposes I can just be your friend, nothing more. Not until you're ready."

He paused, thinking over what he just said and hurried to clarified. "Not saying that you _will_ be ready, like I'm assuming you will eventually. I mean, _if_ you want to... if you're still … you don't have to do anything. I'm not expecting… anything," he rambled on, his cheeks growing darker by the second.

He seemed to really be struggling to find the words to say what he wanted to say but I got the gist of it and appreciated it all the same.

To be honest I wasn't that shocked. A little surprised, but now that I thought about it, it kind of made sense. I got the vibe that perhaps there might have been a little more going on between Phil and other Dan than just friendship.

It was written in the way he looked at me sometimes. In his tendencies toward physical contact. In his sadness over my condition.

"Thanks," I said a little awkwardly, unsure how to respond to what he said. I _was_ thankful. Thankful and a little amazed that he would so willingly put aside what he wanted to make sure that I felt comfortable.

The more I learnt about Phil the more I was convinced that he couldn't be real. No one was that good of a person.

There was a period of awkward silence that followed. Neither of us were really sure how to proceed from there. "So… uh, tell me more about our first apartment?"

Phil nodded and launched into everything that was good and bad about the apartment we had in Manchester. A lot of it I already knew from watching the videos on my channel but I just let Phil talk anyway. I liked listening to him talk.

Though there was a little twinge of guilt from now knowing exactly what Phil had lost when the accident happened I tried my best to ignore it. There was too much going on at the moment for me to even think about my relationship with Phil.

I wasn't opposed to the idea of being with Phil that way. Phil seemed pretty great. But I wasn't ready for it. Not right now.


	9. Chapter 9

**PHIL P.O.V**

Step one of my masterplan: reintroduction. Reintroduce Dan to the things he'd forgotten about. The things he didn't know he loved.

Sometimes when I read a book or watched a movie, I wished I could forget it so I'd have the chance to experience it for the first time all over again. To relive that magic of slowly falling in love with it.

I felt privileged to be able to watch Dan go through that with all of his favourite things. The circumstances around it sure sucked but I loved seeing the way his eyes lit up when he tried a caramel macchiato for the first time. Or the way he became obsessed with Radiohead's _King of Limbs_ album and listened to it on repeat nonstop. Or the way he cried hysterically while watching _The Fault in Our Stars_ and insisted on watching it again immediately afterwards.

I loved being a part of all of it. I loved being the one to show him everything he missed out on. I never explicitly told him that's what they were, though; things he missed out on. I simply reintroduced them to him as if for the first time.

And I hoped against hope that one day I'd join the list of things that Dan fell in love with all over again.

The plan was to try and trigger something. A memory faded brought back into focus. But as of yet, no such luck. Nothing. It was scaring me a little bit. I had hope still, but I began wondering if perhaps I should start preparing for the worst.

But it wasn't the worst case scenario. Not really. Dan never remembering would be awful and heartbreaking, but he was still here. He was still alive and breathing and healthy and that's all I could really ask for. A Dan who couldn't remember me was better than no Dan at all. And for that I was grateful.

I was sat at the breakfast bar waiting for the kettle to boil one morning when Dan walked dazedly out into the kitchen. He failed to stifle a large yawn and that combined with his messy bed head was just too cute, I couldn't help but smile automatically.

"Morning." I said chirpily. Dan just grunted in response and grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. Picking up the box of cereal on the side he furrowed his eyebrows and shook it, before peering inside and frowning.

"Phil!" he whined, rubbing at his tired eyes. "This was practically full yesterday. Did you seriously eat all of it?"

I grinned even wider at the nostalgia of it all. "Sorry," I said, but I wasn't really sorry. I loved that Dan was complaining about me eating the cereal. It was one of those things that I had just grown used to and without it, it just felt odd. It was an offhand comment by Dan but to me it meant a whole lot more.

Dan scowled at my insincere apology and starting making some toast instead. "I hate these therapy sessions," he grumbled. "Making me wake up early."

I nodded in empathy; that was the reason I was awake too. I didn't need to be awake. It's not like I was going to the sessions. But I liked to be up to see Dan off, and be there to greet him when he came back. "Is your mum taking you again?" I asked.

Dan shook his head. "I told her not to. It's over an hour's drive just to get to London. I didn't want to keep inconveniencing her."

"It's not an inconvenience when the person is willing," I pointed out.

Dan shrugged anyway. "I know. I just… I'm already being such a burden. I feel like I'm making it worse when she drives all the way out here." I wanted to jump in with, 'you're not being a burden, don't think like that' but Dan spoke before I could.

"Do you maybe want to come with me today?" he asked casually.

My heart leapt in my chest. So full of joy and excitement I felt like it was going to burst. In fact, I was so swept up in my happiness at him asking me to join that I forgot to answer.

Dan looked up from the piece of toast he was making and frowned. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I just… would like it if you came," he mumbled.

I made my way around the bench and tackled Dan around the waist. He lost his balance momentarily but quickly regained his footing and laughed.

"Yes. I'd love to come," I said, my cheek pressed against his side as I squeezed him tighter.

"It's just therapy," Dan chuckled.

"I know. But thank you for inviting me," I smiled. It wasn't _just_ therapy. For once Dan was asking me to do something with him, and not the other way around. This was big. For me, at least. Even if he was unaware of the implications of his simple invitation it was important to me.

I pulled back from Dan still grinning. "Also, there's this amazing Chinese restaurant that you have to try. It's not too far from the clinic, we could go for lunch."

Dan raised an eyebrow at me. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, I think you'll like it."

"You think I'll like it or you know I like it?" Dan questioned. "This wouldn't happen to be another one of those things that I used to enjoy and forgot about by any chance?"

My face flushed. Although I knew I wasn't technically doing anything wrong, I still felt kind of guilty that he knew what I was up to. "Picked up on that, huh?"

Dan didn't look upset. He just smirked at me. "Subtlety's not your strong suit."

"Well in that case, I think you should order the chicken chow mein. I have a strong hunch that it's your favourite thing on the menu," I said, not missing the smile on Dan's face as he made his way to the lounge with his toast.


	10. Chapter 10

**DAN P.O.V**

I still hadn't resumed my old life - my YouTube life. It was still a lot to handle and I didn't think I was ready for that. Truth be told, I didn't know if I'd ever be ready for that.

I knew my limits, and how much I was able to cope with. Which was why it was so incredibly stupid of me to willfully overstep that boundary line.

A month had passed since I had woken up and things were going okay. Okay as they could ever be with almost a quarter of my life erased from my brain. But I was dealing with it, largely with the help of Phil.

But the thing was, Phil put his own life on hold to get mine back on track. I never posted on it but I had taken to checking twitter occasionally. I saw the questions that Phil was bombarded with by subscribers, and the half-truths Phil told in response. I read his excuses for why he couldn't make liveshows, why the next video was taking so long, why I hadn't tweeted anything since I woke up.

I felt this enormous knot of guilt in my stomach, weighing me down. I was nothing but a burden. All I did was cause stress and worry and sadness. I was a plague infecting those around me.

I owed it to Phil _try_. To be the Dan that he remembered, the Dan in my videos, so that everything could go back to normal. Not my normal, but his normal. He'd sacrificed too much and I felt like it was my turn. Which was how I found myself at a YouTuber party on the brink of having a panic attack.

I wasn't entirely sure what it was for. It was some dinner especially for Youtuber creators. I don't really know. But Phil and I were invited to it regardless. He initially declined the invitation but not wanting him to cancel on my behalf I told him that he should go. And I told him that I'd go too. Like I said… stupid.

Phil was my tour guide of the YouTuber community, subtly introducing me to everyone. A few people I vaguely recognised from before the forgotten period of my life, which was rather exciting. But most people were new to me.

And the longer the night continued the more frustrating it got. The people I talked to made references to things that I didn't understand and brought up experiences that I couldn't remember having.

Luckily, I had Phil by my side the entire time, jumping into the conversation when I didn't know how to respond to something. I couldn't tell if he was doing that on purpose or if his timing was just incredibly perfect. Either way, I was glad he was there.

At one point in the night he tried to leave a conversation I was having with someone to go get himself a drink and I panicked a little bit and grabbed hold of his hand to get him to stay. He looked down at our intertwined fingers then back at me and his expression softened.

He didn't complain, and instead squeezed my hand gently, letting me know that he got my message. Which was essentially: 'don't you dare fucking leave me.'

It was all so overwhelming. All these strangers coming up and talking to me like they'd known me forever. I felt like I was intruding on other Dan's life and was paranoid that I'd say or do the wrong thing and fuck everything up for him.

I had to keep reminding myself over and over again that there was no other Dan. There was only me. This was _my_ life.

And it was theoretically idyllic. A thousand times better than my old life in every conceivable way. In fact, I was living the dream. In this world I wasn't studying law; I was a YouTuber with millions of fans. I wasn't living in a crappy dorm room; I had an apartment in London with my idol. My idol who was also, as it turns out, my best friend.

I should have been happy... but I wasn't. Because it still felt wrong.

It was an unsettling experience feeling as if you didn't belong in your own life; in your own skin. It made me feel sick to my stomach. I wanted to go somewhere that felt safe and familiar but the problem was that place didn't exist. Not anymore. Everything was new and scary and alien to me.

I was starting to panic and the alarm bells were going off in my head. If I didn't get out of there soon, I was bound to have a full on meltdown.

But then for the second time that night I found my hands in contact with Phil's. He had scooched up closer to me so that his side pressed up against mine and he held one of my sweaty and shaky hands within his warm and steady ones. "Are you okay?" he whispered to me in concern. His blue eyes looked up into mine trying to get a read on the situation.

I didn't trust myself to talk, out of fear that I would start sobbing instead. I shook my head and tried to blink away the tears that were starting to form in my eyes.

Phil wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him. It was odd, but for a second I felt as if I'd found that place that I so desperately wanted to escape to. I still couldn't remember Phil or anything about our life together, but he'd been with me every step of the way since the minute I woke up. And being in his arms it felt safe, and it felt familiar.

"Let's go home then." He whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

"You don't have to do that." I said thickly, my voice straining with the effort to hold back the tears.

Phil let go of me and stood up. He held his hand out for me to take, which I gladly accepted, and without stopping for one last drink or to say goodbye to anyone he took me home. Where once again we found ourselves lying on a bed together, but this time we were in Phil's room. He didn't question why I insisted on his room instead of 'mine.'

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, facing him, my hand still locked with his. Phil's free hand reached over to gently brush my fringe out of my eyes.

"For what?" Phil asked, still stroking my hair. I simply closed my eyes against the touch, even though I knew I should probably stop him. I knew that allowing him to continue would only give him the wrong impression.

But I was a selfish person, as was made abundantly clear from tonight. So I let him continue.

"For not being Dan," I yawned. My eyes were still closed so I didn't see his reaction. But the way his hand froze in my hair I could imagine the confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Phil asked, but I was too far gone. Already pulled under by the enticing waters of sleep, promising me temporary absolution. Which I gladly welcomed.


	11. Chapter 11

**PHIL P.O.V**

When I woke up the first thing that my tired eyes focused on was Dan's still sleeping face. I smiled contentedly, not daring to tear my eyes away. I missed waking up to this, and I was going to savour every second of it.

His words from the night before echoed in my ears: ' _For not being Dan.'_ It confused me. I didn't understand what he meant. But he was sleepy and emotional when he said it. Maybe Dan didn't even know what he meant.

I sighed. There had been no progress in the memory recovery department, which was extremely disheartening. I thought about all those moments not caught on camera that now only existed in my mind. The memories seemed more valuable than ever now that there was only one copy of them.

But I tried to look on the bright side, and it was moments like these that made it easy. There was no confusion on Dan's features, no doubts on his lips. He looked at ease when he was asleep. Like he hadn't a single care in the world.

In this little bubble of existence there was no accident, there was no memory loss, there were no complications. It was just him and me. It was just Dan and Phil.

We were in the same positions as we were when we fell asleep, and so my hand was still in his hand. I lightly stroked the skin of his inner wrist with my thumb. I missed being able to touch him like this. I took that luxury for granted before, but not now. Not now that I know what it's like to go without those little touches. I didn't ever want to go without them again.

I'd slowly started to become more affectionate with Dan and he hadn't stopped me. I was hoping that was a good thing; that it was a sign that we could maybe rekindle what we once had.

Dan stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes a fraction before shutting them against the light.

"Good morning," I chuckled. Dan mumbled something that might have been 'morning' in response before rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into my pillow.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. Dan shrugged and murmured something into the pillow that I didn't quite catch.

"Dan," I laughed, "I can't understand a word you're saying. Get out of the pillow." But Dan didn't move. And judging by his slow and rhythmic breathing I'm guessing he fell right back asleep again. I smiled. Sleepy Dan was one of my favourite Dans.

I decided I'd let him sleep, as he'd had an exhausting night. Instead I got up and settled myself in the lounge with my laptop and a bowl of cereal.

Last night left me in an extremely good mood. It shouldn't have, considering the near panic attack Dan had, but a part of me really loved how needy he was. How he didn't seem to care about any of the other YouTubers. Only me. It didn't bother me that he never let me leave his side because there's never any place I'd rather be. And the fact that Dan was maybe starting to feel the same way made me feel so unbelievably happy.

I decided that I wanted to do a liveshow. It wasn't the usual day or the usual time but I didn't care. And I hoped that my subscribers wouldn't mind either.

"Hellooooo everybody! Gee, it's been a long time, hasn't it? Sorry about that. Also, how weird is it that I'm doing this in the morning? I'm in still in my pj's and eating my breakfast and everything. Weird. So how are we all doing this fine morning or afternoon or evening or ungodly hour of the night?"

For the first ten minutes I talked about nothing in particular and I was perfectly content with that. I missed my subscribers. I don't know if they realised it but talking to them, interacting with them, is honestly one of my favourite things in the entire world.

Pretty soon the chat became full of one thing only, and it was useless for me to pretend that I hadn't seen it. "Where's Dan? Dan's sleeping. You know Dan. He rarely ever wakes up before midday." I played it off with a slight chuckle but the comments kept rolling in. "Can you go wake him up? No, I don't think that's the wisest idea. Not if I want to keep my head attached to my body. We were at a dinner party last night and it finished pretty late. I don't think he'd appreciate that; I might just let him sleep for a bit longer."

"Then why aren't I sleeping? Good question. I don't really know. It's one of those days where I just woke up in really good mood and I had so much energy that I needed to get up and do something. Do any of you ever wake up like that? Pretty much everyone is saying 'no' in the comments. That's a shame. It's a nice feeling."

I talked effortlessly for the entire hour; never letting anything slip but not telling any lies either. I spent so much time avoiding doing liveshows because I assumed the anxiety surrounding it would be just as, if not worse, than how it was when writing that tweet. But this was easy. Perhaps it was just my refreshingly optimistic mindset that made all the difference.

"How is Dan doing? You know, I think he's doing okay. There was a bit of an iffy period during Dan's recovery. Hospital logistics and medical mumbo jumbo and all that but it seems to be settling down a bit now. Everything will go back to normal, don't worry. You'll have Dan back soon enough."

I smiled a genuine smile, because I really believed that to be true. Dan was voluntarily spending more time out of his room. He was talking more, laughing more, eating more. Aside from last night's little episode everything seemed to be going okay. Everything seemed to be getting better. Slowly but surely Dan was returning to his old self.

"Oh, my laptop's about a second away from dying. I got to run and get my charger. I should probably leave now anyway; I've been talking your ears off for far too long. Thanks everyone for chatting with me. This has been fun. I'll hopefully see you all again soon, same time as usual. Aaaaaand goodbye!"

Still grinning I tiptoed back into my room to grab my charger, not wanting to disturb Dan's sleep. I needn't have worried though as Dan was already awake. He was sat up in my bed, knees pulled up to his chest and chin resting on top.

"You're up! Sorry, did I wake you? Was I talking too loud?" Dan shook his head slowly. I flopped down onto the bed beside him, head resting on my folded arms. "Do you want me to make you some breakfast? We're out of cereal but I can do some toast or pancakes or something?" I asked.

Dan didn't respond. Not even a nod or shake of the head this time. "What's wrong? Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?" I asked, suddenly on red alert and sitting back up. I waited patiently for his answer.

"No. I'm just… I don't know," he said uncertainly. "I think that maybe… maybe I should go back home."

He said the last part of that sentence so quietly, it was as if part of him didn't want me to actually hear it. But I did, and I wished I hadn't.


	12. Chapter 12

**DAN P.O.V**

"I think that maybe… maybe I should go back home."

Phil seemed to recoil away at my words. "Like, for a visit? Or…?" I think he knew my answer. And he didn't like my answer. So I didn't bother voicing it.

"How – how long will you be gone for?" he asked instead. I could hear the strain in his voice from trying to keep himself together. I recognised it from my own.

"I don't know," I said feebly. I hadn't even talked to my parents about this yet. I was merely hoping that my mum's offer still stood.

I thought things were getting better but I was wrong. I was still trying to insert myself into someone else's life and it just wasn't working. I didn't belong here; I wasn't the right puzzle piece. And despite Phil's efforts to make the piece fit anyway it wasn't going to work. Not without carving and slicing and sanding my edges, to remodel me into the right shape.

"Dan, please. Let's just talk about this," Phil begged, the desperation clear in his voice.

I stared fixatedly at the ground. If was afraid that if I met his eyes my resolve would dissipate. "There's nothing to talk about. You can't keep pretending that things are back the way there were. They're not. So stop pretending."

Phil looked dumbfounded. "W- What do you mean?"

I decided to abandon the filter and let my unrefined thoughts come pouring out. "I'm trying to be that Dan for you. The Dan that you're used to. But I'm not. And I'm sorry, I just… I can't keep it up any longer. It's exhausting." I finally met his eyes and said apologetically, "I need to go back to my own life."

"But… this is your life," Phil said quietly and the sadness in his voice made me want to die. "Your life is here. With me."

I sighed. "Phil. Please don't do this." Don't make me rethink this decision. Don't make me feel like a piece of shit for trying to do what's best for me.

"No." Phil shook his head emphatically, blinking back tears. "No. _You_ don't do this. It's all still there, I know it is. Don't give up yet. You'll remember, please just –"

I let out a frustrated and strangled cry, cutting off his rambling immediately. "DON'T YOU GET IT?" I shouted. "I'M NOT GOING TO REMEMBER! I'VE FUCKING TRIED AND IT'S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN! GIVE UP ALREADY!"

Phil flinched at the ferocity of my words, clearly not expecting my outburst. But this is what you get when you try to repress your thoughts. Negativity and despair and hopelessness - they don't go away if you ignore them. They grow and they fester and they lie in wait.

Angry tears sprung to my eyes. I didn't want to be angry. But I was just so tired and drained that anger was the only thing I had left to go on. It was the only thing fuelling my resolve at this point.

I ran my hands though my hair in exasperation. "It's not going to happen," I repeated weakly, my voice hitching as I attempted to choke back a sob. "The longer I'm here, the more damage I do. While I'm here, you're never going to give up hope."

"Hope is a good thing," Phil argued softly, but I shook my head. In this situation I didn't believe that was the case. Hope was slowly destroying him. To be let down so many times, to be relentlessly disappointed day in and day out - it had to be killing him. Whether he realised it or not.

I heard his liveshow. I heard the optimism in his voice and his promise of my return to the internet. He couldn't go around promising things like that. Not to himself, not to anyone. Especially when the chances of that happening were looking slimmer by the second. A little hope is good; a lot is dangerous.

"Please don't leave me," Phil pleaded quietly, and fuck I almost gave in. It was the worst feeling in the world; looking at the sadness radiating from Phil and knowing that I was the cause. That it was all my fucking fault and there was nothing I could do to fix it. I couldn't stay. I couldn't be the other Dan for him.

It felt like a break up, and then I realised that for Phil it technically was. Never did the cliché break up line ' _it's not you, it's me'_ fit more perfectly than it did at that exact moment. It _was_ me. It was me and my stupid brain that sucked at being a brain.

"I'm sorry," I said lamely. I had a million things to apologise for. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for fucking up your life so bad. I'm sorry that I can't be who you want me to be. I'm sorry that I can't remember.

I expected Phil to hate me. I expected a fight to ensue. I expected more yelling and pleading and crying. What I didn't expect was for Phil to pull me into a hug, and tell me that I needn't be apologising. For him to stroke my back and tell me that if this was what I had to do, then he wasn't going to stop me.

But that's what he did, because that's who Phil is.

I must be crazy for giving up a life with Phil Lester but I was pretty sure I was doing the right thing. Pretty sure. Almost sure. Kind of sure.

Last time I checked, though, doing the right thing wasn't supposed to make you feel this bad. It wasn't supposed to leave you feeling guilty and miserable and shitty and just generally like the worst fucking person on the planet.

It wasn't supposed to feel like this.


	13. Chapter 13

**PHIL P.O.V**

Since first meeting Dan I don't think we went a single day without communicating with each other. Whether that was face to face, in a phone call, over Skype, or just by text. For seven years that lasted, until now.

Sure, there was the month where Dan was in hospital but I still saw him every day. I still got to hold his hand and reaffirm his presence in my life. Now I didn't even have that. Dan had cut himself out of my life entirely.

It had been a week since he left, and I hadn't heard from him since. I had heard from his mum though, who at my request gave me regular updates on Dan's well-being, unbeknownst to Dan himself.

He was depressed she said. She reckons he just didn't know what to do with himself. Home life was different to how he remembered it. It was a different house, in a different neighborhood. They had a new dog. His brother wasn't a little kid anymore. It was all just as unfamiliar to him as his life with me was.

He was still going to see a therapist. Not for recovered-memory therapy, though. He gave up hope on that front. Just regular therapy to help him deal with his emotions; to settle into his life. Perhaps it was something that I should consider looking into as well, to help me do the same.

This past week all I had been feeling was this horrible… emptiness. I don't really know how to describe it. Just this dull, aching sadness that lingered within me wherever I went. And I wasn't sure how to get rid of it. Like, it was bearable. I could still go about my day to day life. But everything was so much bleaker and drained of colour. I'd almost forgotten what it was like to not have this sadness weighing me down.

I felt like I was constantly on the verge of bursting into tears, but was too drained, too exhausted, to actually _feel_ enough to conjure any tears. Crying was too much of an effort. I had cried myself out the night Dan left, and it seemed that was enough crying to last me for a lifetime.

I had finally understood what he meant when he said he wasn't Dan. And he was right.

A person's experiences make them who they are. They help shape them, mould them into the person they become. If you don't remember those experiences, and it's like they never happened, it changes you.

Dan was different. He was still Dan, but he wasn't _my_ Dan. He'd reverted back to the person he was when we first met. And that person was still amazing, don't get me wrong. It was the one that I fell in love with.

But the person he grew to be, the one that he matured into over the years, he wasn't there anymore. And he was never coming back. Because you couldn't recreate every single one of those experiences with complete exactness.

That Dan was lost forever. He died when that car hit him, and it broke my heart.

I hadn't thought about it that way before he left and when I finally did I shattered completely. I fell to my knees, completely overcome with emotions. I couldn't handle it. I was hit with so much grief and anger and sadness all at once that I just didn't know what to do with myself.

I had lost Dan. I had actually lost him and I didn't even realise until that moment that that's what happened. I lost my best friend.

Now I had really truly lost him - both versions of him - because I tried too hard to force everything back into the way it was. I was stupid to think that I could fix everything with a movie or a band or a restaurant. I was stupid for not realising that it was making Dan uncomfortable.

I was naïve and insensitive and just plain stupid. The hit and run driver was responsible for killing my Dan, but I was entirely responsible for chasing away the new one.

The tears flowed uncontrollably that night and I made no attempt to stop them. I had thought that maybe if I cried hard enough and for long enough, that I could rid myself of the unwanted emotions. Give myself a least a little reprieve before they inevitably built up once more.

My theory was flawed as I regrettably discovered. I didn't feel any better after I had cried myself out. I just felt empty and sad and cold. Though I may have been feeling cold purely because I was sat outside on the balcony. Inside held too many memories.

I remember how my teeth were chattering, how my limbs were shaking, and how my tears had practically frozen onto my cheeks. It was painfully cold but I'd figured the physical pain I felt was only fitting, considering the emotional pain that I was in.

I hadn't felt that level of grief in a long time. Perhaps ever. I'd lost family members before but they were mostly distant family members. And I had lost my best friend back in college. That was probably the most painful one until now.

Which didn't really make sense because Dan wasn't dead. But he was. He was and he wasn't at the same time and it messed with brain. All I knew was that what I was feeling was most definitely grief. Was I allowed to be feeling grief? Surely it was silly to feel grief when he wasn't technically dead.

I then did what I always did whenever I was feeling particularly sad and rang my mum. I didn't cry; it was no longer possible for me to produce anymore tears. But I ranted and she listened and that made me feel marginally better.

When she asked where I was and I told her that I was on the balcony she practically yelled at me to get back inside, and once I had thawed out that also made me feel a little bit better. But what would've made me feel a whole lot better would be to have Dan back.

I didn't care if it wasn't my Dan, I just needed _a_ Dan. I needed a Dan to hold and cuddle like an oversized teddy bear. I needed to smell his wonderfully warm scent and taste his lips on my lips. Because it had been so long since I had experienced those things and I needed a reminder of what it was like.

But now I wasn't too sure I'd ever get to experience them again.


	14. Chapter 14

**DAN P.O.V**

"Why did you leave, Dan?" Doctor Henry questioned me. He'd asked me to call him Tim, to try and make things more casual and more comfortable, but in my head he was still Doctor Henry. He was my therapist, and nothing else.

"It felt… wrong," I answered slowly.

"What _exactly_ felt wrong about it? Give me specifics. If you can."

I thought about it for a second but couldn't find an answer to his question. "I don't know. Everything," I said annoyed.

"Everything?" Doctor Henry raised his eyebrow questioningly.

I sighed. "Well… no, not _everything_ I suppose. Some stuff felt normal, I guess."

"Like what?"

I rubbed my temples in frustration. Therapy required a lot of thinking, more so than I had expected. To get the root of everything I was being prompted to _really_ dig through my mind. To scrape around the edges of my skull and leave nothing untouched. Thinking so much, and so deeply, was actually starting to hurt my brain.

"The apartment itself, I suppose. I grew used to that. And living in London in general I was okay with. And…" I trailed off, knowing what I wanted to say but it being too painful to actually voice.

"Phil?" Doctor Henry supplied, taking a shot in the dark and hitting the target precisely. Yes. Phil. There were moments when I was with Phil where everything was just… perfect. Those moments were like anchors in the middle of a storm tossed sea, keeping me grounded and giving me a second to figure out my bearings.

"Yeah," I mumbled. Any mention, however, any thought of Phil, now sent waves of guilt crashing over me. I picked uncomfortably at the chair I was sat on, tugging fruitlessly at a stray thread in an attempt to stay calm.

"Just an observation, but it seems that the things that you were comfortable with are the things that you gave up by leaving," Doctor Henry said. "I'm assuming, and correct me if I'm wrong here, that what felt the most alien to you is your online life, yes?"

I nodded slowly. Well, yeah. That and everything that came with it. "And did moving back home with your family help you to deal with that better than your life in London did?"

I scowled. "Are you saying that I made a mistake?" I was defensive, because it was something that had actually been plaguing my mind quite a bit. The answer to his question was no. It had made no difference so far.

"I'm not suggesting anything like that. I'm just pointing out that the only thing you accomplished by moving was changing your environment. But the environment wasn't the problem. Not really."

"Well, no," I argued, clutching at straws to find a reason why my decision was a logical one. "No, it wasn't the only thing I accomplished. I… I saved Phil."

"How so?" he asked, jotting something that I couldn't see down on his clipboard.

I closed my eyes trying to think of a way to voice my thoughts and have it make sense. "Phil… he kept expecting me to wake up one morning and suddenly remember everything. That I would suddenly go back to the Dan he knew. But that wasn't going to happen, so I… I let him realise that wasn't going to happen. I let him move on."

Doctor Henry nodded. "About this 'other Dan' idea that you have… Do you really believe that you've changed so much in the last seven years that you're now an entirely different person?"

This was the hardest part to wrap my head around. The other Dan. "It's not that I've changed necessarily. I just… I didn't _do_ any of that. It feels like someone else did it all. They started posting videos, they gained a following, they wrote a book, they went on tour. None of it feels like _my_ accomplishments. What, I'm just supposed to step in and take credit for everything?" I asked, genuinely needing an answer.

"Yes," Doctor Henry said simply. He uncrossed his legs and leant forward toward me. "Because in reality they are your accomplishments, whether you remember them or not."

He glanced the clock. My session was nearly over. "I want you try to stop disconnecting yourself from it all. You don't have to pick up where you left off, you don't have to return to that life, just try to accept the fact that it was _your_ life. And be proud of how far you made it."

I sighed and leant back in my seat. Easier said than done.

I went back to my parents' house after my session with the intention of watching some more of my videos. Doctor Henry thought it might help if I watched them, and in my head or out loud remind myself that that's me on the screen.

I had a whole gaming channel that I hadn't yet touched that I thought I'd start with, but barely a few videos in and I had already stopped. Not because it made me uncomfortable necessarily, I just got side tracked. Before I knew it I was watching Phil's videos instead.

I don't know why I hadn't already caught myself up on AmazingPhil videos. They were something I watched before the forgotten period of my life. It was something I remembered doing, and it surprised that it wasn't until now that I considered returning to it.

What started off as a handful of videos quickly turned into a full blown marathon. I was able to put the guilt out of my head for a moment and just enjoy them. Phil was and always will be, in my mind at least, the epitome of YouTube culture.

Never had the doubts that I'd made a huge mistake been so strong as they were when I ran out of Phil videos. Why did I leave Phil? Why did I think that would be a good idea? I had Phil's contact in my phone and for a moment I genuinely considered calling him.

But to say what? I'm sorry, I was wrong, let me come back? That was ridiculous. And I had made my reasons clear as to why I'd left. I wasn't about to abandon them simply because I remembered how much I enjoyed Phil's company.

So I threw my phone into my desk draw and closed the YouTube tab on my laptop. I returned, instead, to the tab that I had open before I left for therapy, where I continued to fill out my university application.


	15. Chapter 15

**PHIL P.O.V**

I'd promised a liveshow, and so I delivered. I supposed it was time to fully get back into the swing of things anyway. No more waiting around for Dan to remember. I'd have to tell everyone now. I could postpone it all I liked but I knew it had to happen to eventually.

In the middle of my liveshow when someone asked where Dan was, a question that frequently popped up even before Dan's accident, I considered telling the truth.

 _Dan's moved back home with his parents because he's suffering from amnesia and doesn't remember me or anything from our life together and I tried to fix it with sushi and anime but it only made him uncomfortable so he left._

I didn't say that, obviously. I chose not to answer the question at all, and pretended I hadn't seen it. Imagine if I had said all of that though. Imagine the reaction. Though it may sound a little conceited and I truly don't mean it that way, a lot of people seemed to care about me and Dan. And a lot of people would be devastated to hear that it no longer was _me and Dan_.

There was Dan, and there was Phil. But there was no more Dan and Phil.

I didn't want to be the one to tell everyone that. A small part of me considered abandoning my online life as well so I wouldn't have to. The both of us could just vanish from the internet without a trace. Leave it up to the imagination of phan-fic writers to explain away our disappearance.

But I couldn't do that. It was my life, and had been for over ten years. Making videos was what I loved, and YouTube made it possible for me to do what I loved for a living. I couldn't abandon it. And I couldn't abandon the people that supported me along the way.

Besides, my online life was no longer restricted to online. Occasionally it seeped into the real world too. I couldn't stop people from recognising me on the street. I couldn't ignore them if they asked for a photo or a signing. There was no escaping the life, even if I wanted to.

Surely Dan realised that as well. If not, he was in for a rude awakening. I wanted to check in to see how he was going. Dan's mum wasn't a great source of information because apparently Dan hardly talked to her anymore. He hardly talked to anyone anymore. He rarely even left his room.

I wanted to contact him, but I knew that would be wrong of me. He left and I had to respect that decision. Even if I thought it was a stupid decision. Even if I hated that decision with every fibre of my being, and it pained me more than any injury I'd ever sustained.

Was I weak for not fighting harder for him to stay? Or strong for letting him go? I could no longer tell. But I'd wait for Dan to do what he had to do. I'd wait for him to contact me first. _If_ he ever decided he wanted to.

There are some moments, truly spectacular, enigmatic moments, when all things in the universe align. They're moments that would ordinarily only unfold in dreams. Moments, that the timing of which, is so beyond perfect that you start to question if it really happened by chance or if someone designed it that way.

Such a moment was rare, but this was one of them.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and when I glanced at the screen to check the message I dropped it in surprise. Of all the rooms I could have been in at the time I had to be in the kitchen, where my phone shattered on impact with the tiled floor.

But I honestly didn't even care. I barely even registered that it happened. Because the text, oh the _text_ , was so wonderful that nothing in the world could faze me.

 ** _I liked your liveshow_**

Okay, so the words themselves weren't _that_ awe inspiring, but the sender of the words made it so. It was from _Dan_. _The_ Dan. _My_ Dan. The one and only Daniel James Howell.

My heart jumped into my throat. Was I imagining things? Or was this really happening?

I typed a reply back as quickly as I possibly could, my thumbs stumbling over the letters. In my flurry autocorrect had to keep guessing what I was trying to say. But ' _Oh Archie sky_ ' and ' _You arched it_ ' was _not_ what I was trying to say. I had to take a breath and slow down, before I managed to type the words correctly.

 ** _You watched it?_**

It took longer than it should have for him to send his next reply of simply **_yeah_** , and my nerves were on fire as I waited. But it came through eventually, and though it wasn't a deep and eloquent declaration of love or a bold announcement of his return to the apartment, I was okay with 'yeah.' 'Yeah,' all of a sudden, became the best word in the English language.

I knew how dangerous hope could be, but I guess I didn't learn my lesson. Because hope surged within me once again, without my knowledge at first. Or perhaps it never really left, I don't know. I didn't care to dwell on it.

It wasn't hope that things would go back to the way they were. I had come to terms with that and accepted its improbability. But that didn't mean that we couldn't start over again. We had to stop trying to recreate the painting; it wasn't going to work. But perhaps we could start making a new one, on a fresh piece of canvas.

It wouldn't be the same but that was okay. It would simply be different. And there's nothing wrong with different. Different held endless possibilities, each as exciting and exhilarating as the next.

I loved the old painting, and I wasn't about to throw it away. But I was eager to begin work on the next masterpiece.

It would take time, I'd imagine. But for now I was content to begin with a 'yeah.'


	16. Chapter 16

**DAN P.O.V**

As much as I would have liked to return to normalcy and pick my life back up where I left off, there was one major hindrance to my plan: I couldn't give up Phil.

I didn't stop with just his videos. I moved onto his Twitter and Tumblr and Instagram and YouNow. I'm not sure when, but at some point I accidentally stepped over that line between admiration and infatuation.

But that was okay, right? I was a fan before the forgotten period. That was normal to me. I wasn't going back on my resolve.

Until I texted him.

 _That_ was something I never used to do. I was never _friends_ with Phil. There was always a screen separating the two of us. He was merely my two dimensional idol that didn't exist outside of the internet. And he didn't know I existed full stop. We didn't know each other, and we certainly didn't _text_ each other.

But watching his liveshow I found myself missing him. Incredibly so. I saw the hundreds upon hundreds of people in the comment section trying to get noticed by him and was reminded of how I used to be one of them. But then he did notice me, and it evolved into so much more than mere acknowledgement of existence.

And I gave that up, all because I couldn't handle the life that came with it. I'd thought it a million times already and I'll probably think it a million times more, but this entire situation was completely unfair.

I started to feel what I could only describe as jealousy. I kept waiting for him to mention me, as so many people in the comments kept bringing my name up. Surely he must have seen them. But he never acknowledged them. It was juvenile and petty but I wanted Phil to direct his attention back toward me. Forget about those other comments. Talk about _me_.

So starved of his attention I sent him a text as soon as the liveshow finished. I didn't even think about it. I just clicked send, and waited impatiently with bated breath.

And then he replied. And it was the greatest feeling in the world.

I kept texting with Phil, even though my brain was yelling at me to stop. Every now and then he'd message me a terrible knock knock joke, or a random fact about lyre birds, or a picture of a cat doing yoga, and I'd instantly forget that I wasn't supposed to be doing this.

It wasn't a serious conversation that we were having and I loved him for that. He didn't seem bitter about me leaving, he didn't complain about my absence, there was no reference to things I didn't understand or didn't remember. They were just texts, with no meaningful or serious content.

I did intentionally skirt around certain questions. When he asked me what I was up to I answered with 'plotting world domination' as opposed to the real answer of packing up my room. I wasn't going to tell him of my plans to return to university. I hadn't told anyone (besides the university, obviously).

I knew what he would say; what everyone would say. 'But you were so miserable there' or 'dropping out was the best decision that you ever made.' I'd seen my college dropout video, and yeah, it probably was the best decision I could have made. But the other Dan made it, not me. If it is a mistake, I want to at least be the one to make it. To find out for myself.

And returning to my old life meant returning to _all_ aspects of my old life, even my law degree. With, perhaps, the added exception of Phil's friendship. Maybe I could grant myself that one anomaly.

A good decision, I later found out. Because texting with Phil quickly became one of my favourite things to do.

 ** _I bought a new cactus today_**

I smirked at the new text that came through, several days after we'd started texting. It had nothing to do with the conversation we were having, but that was okay with me. **_Because you don't already have enough?_** I wrote back.

 ** _You can never have enough cacti_** Phil messaged in reply, and I grinned. **_I've named him Cornelius. Don't tell the others… but I think he's my favourite_**.

 ** _You're choosing favourites? Between your own children? What a prick move_**.

We messaged back and forth, the conversation only getting sillier and the puns only getting worse.

It was strange how just messaging with Phil could instantly brighten my mood. It was all I wanted to do. It was all I looked forward to. Every morning the first thing I did was check my phone for new messages. And every night I refused to put my phone down, in case a new one came through.

Even when my eyes starting drooping and my thumbs started getting clumsy I refused to go to sleep. If Phil was still texting, then I wanted to be awake to receive those texts. I was stubborn in that mindset. And no matter how many times Phil urged me to go to sleep, I wouldn't.

 ** _If you're tired, you should really go to bed. Don't strain your brain_**.

 ** _I can't sleep though_**. I lied, yawning literally as I was typing it.

 ** _Then I guess I'll have to sing you a lullaby_**.

I smiled sleepily at the suggestion. **_You could try, but I doubt I'll hear it from all the way over here_**.

There was a pause before Phil replied. I wondered briefly if he himself had fallen asleep. Or if he had only pretended to fall asleep so that I'd fall asleep. He had try that once but then I caught him tweeting only minutes later.

His text came through eventually, just as my eye lids fluttered shut. But the buzzing in my hand woke me up instantly and with blurry eyes I eagerly read his single word message.

 ** _Skype?_**

My heart caught in my throat and I paused, watching the blinking blue line appear and disappear as I thought over my answer. Texting was one thing, skyping was entirely different. But the offer was far too tempting to decline.

 ** _Okay_**.


	17. Chapter 17

**PHIL P.O.V**

Skyping with Dan was bringing back all the memories from before we'd officially met. We had Skyped a fair few times since then but we obviously had little reason to when we lived in the same apartment.

But now we were separated once again, and virtual communication became our only form of communication. Which was okay with me, because I'd rather that than nothing. And I was getting better at not taking the little things for granted.

Dan seemed to be doing okay. Not great, but okay. His smile was less forced now. You could tell he smiled because he wanted to, and not because he was trying to please me.

Without the pressure of trying to fit a particular mould he seemed that little bit lighter. Freer. Happier. And that in turn made _me_ happier.

He still had a long way to go of course, but I think he was right. He needed to step back and figure everything out. I didn't take it personally, because if he needed a break from me specifically then he wouldn't have messaged me in the first place.

And he wouldn't have continued to message me since.

And he wouldn't be skyping with me every day.

"Done some redecorating?" I asked, as we began another one of our Skype calls. It had been a few weeks since our first one, and we'd only missed the odd day here and there. Dan glanced at the bland wall behind him, vastly different to the walls of his bedroom, and sighed.

"Change of scenery actually... I'm back at university." He seemed to wince at his own words. As if he was already regretting his choice.

"Oh," I said, unsure of how to respond. On the one hand I wanted to be supportive. I wanted to applaud him for doing what he thought was best for himself, and encourage him to keep up the good work.

But on the other hand, it wasn't what _I_ thought was best for him.

I'd already been down this road before and it wasn't exactly a pleasant journey. I spent many a night calming a hysterical Dan. Holding him while he sat on the brink of a complete mental breakdown. Whispering encouragements to refute his claims of his own stupidity.

His College Dropout video showed but a fraction of what really went down. There was nothing about the sleepless nights. Nothing about his refusal to eat for days on end. Nothing about the tearing of textbooks and the snapping of pens.

It was intense. And I think that if Dan remembered the extent of his misery he wouldn't be making the decision to go back. But he didn't remember, so he didn't know. I had to tell him.

But I could barely get a word out before Dan interrupted me. "I know you think I'm making a mistake. And maybe I am. But just… let me make it, okay?" He looked at me pleadingly. Begging me to understand. I could hear his thoughts as if they were my own. He wasn't sure about this decision. It scared him even. But he was also stubborn. And he was going to stick it out.

"Okay," I replied slowly, still not entirely thrilled at this recent revelation. "But if you get too stressed out, you call me. If you need help studying, you call me. If your books give you so much as a paper cut then _you call me_."

Dan's hesitancy disappeared, only to be replaced by a teasing smile. "And you'll come over here and give my books a stern talking to, right?"

"Absolutely. I may even ring their parents."

Dan snorted and shook his head. "You're such a dork." I grinned in response and thanked him for the compliment. And then we were both laughing.

I'm glad that we started Skyping, for it was a thousand times better than texting. If we were texting I wouldn't have been able to see the dimples in his cheeks as he held back a smile. I wouldn't have seen the way his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. I wouldn't have heard the laughter laced into his tone.

It was most definitely an upgrade. But I still longed for the day when I'd once again be granted full access to the entire Dan Howell experience. When I wouldn't be limited to just seeing and hearing him.

The day when I'll be able to breathe in his wonderfully warm scent, and even though warmth technically doesn't have a scent, there's really no other way I can describe it.

The day when I'll be able to absent-mindedly trace circles across his back and feel the cotton of his shirt beneath my fingertips.

The day when I'll be able to taste his lips against my own, and detect the lingering hint of toothpaste leftover from that morning.

Every one of my senses was missing Dan. They had almost become numb from lack of exposure. Weakened. Desaturated. I needed Dan in the flesh. And though I was grateful for these Skype sessions, they only teased my senses. Giving me but a snippet of the real thing.

I needed the real thing, but I was prepared to go at whatever pace that Dan decided however slow that may be.

Dan didn't have to share a dorm; it was just him. Which meant we could Skype into the late hours of the night without disturbing anyone's sleep but our own. Dan caved eventually though. His eyes fluttering closed and his head resting on his arms, all with the camera still on.

The normal thing to do would have been to end the call. But I granted myself a few extra moments to merely observe. Because he was beautiful, to put it simply. And like with the stars in the sky and the sun over the horizon, I could never get tired of looking at such beauty.

And until I could view it in person again I was content with this small luxury.


	18. Chapter 18

**DAN P.O.V**

Why law? I had no passion for law. Sure, it'd probably land me a decent job. One that paid well and demanded respect. But were the perks really so good as to outweigh the downsides? I was beginning to doubt it.

The work was hard and boring and overwhelming in the sheer amount of it. My life was now composed primarily of two things; studying and talking to Phil. And when the latter of those two made me so immeasurably happy, the former seemed even more painful by comparison.

It was 10pm and Phil had gone to bed early. That should have been a good thing considering the amount of work I had to catch up on. With texting Phil no longer an option I was free to be productive.

But no.

I knew he was asleep and yet I couldn't help checking my phone every five minutes anyway, hoping I'd see a new text. It had reached the point of obsession.

And when I didn't see a new text, I re-read all of our old messages instead. And not just the ones between him and me, but the ones between him and other Dan. The occasional 'love you' and affectionate pet name were the only differences from the conversations we were having now.

For once I started to view me and other Dan as the same person. Because his texts were just so similar to the kind of texts that I would send. His words the same as my words. His thoughts the same as my thoughts.

So it felt almost as if Phil had been saying those things to _me_. That he was calling _me_ by those couple-y pet names and reminding _me_ that he loved me.

And, if I'm being honest, I kind of liked it. I wanted him to continue to interact with me like that.

It took me a while to realise that's what I wanted. But I eventually took notice of the fact that I wasn't completely satisfied with casual messaging. I took notice of how my heart flipped with excitement every time my phone buzzed. I took notice of how ninety percent of my thoughts were occupied by Phil.

I was crushing on him, there was no doubt about it. Which sucked because I was over here and he was all the way over there. _I_ left _him_. It was my choice and with each passing day I began to regret that decision more and more.

So there I was. Late at night. Re-reading old messages and rethinking my life choices. Wading in the shallows of existential uncertainty.

I wasn't sure about a lot of things in my life; my law degree, my YouTube channel, my therapy sessions. But there was no uncertainty when it came to Phil. Not anymore. I knew what I wanted and what I wanted was him.

Which prompted me to do something that was a little bit insane. A little bit romantic. And most definitely out of character. I hopped on a train to London.

The train ride was long and left me with plenty of time to ponder my next move. What would I say? What would I do? Would Phil be pleased to see me, or annoyed that I woke him up? After all, I wasn't going to arrive at his flat until well past midnight.

I hoped he'd be pleased. I hoped that whatever feelings he had for other Dan were still there. Because I _was_ other Dan. Different in some ways but not in the ways that mattered. Fundamentally, he and I were the same.

Excitement and anticipation were what kept me awake throughout the long, arduous train ride, as well as the walk that came to follow. My feet remembered the path from the station to the flat, which was good because my head was stuck in the clouds.

As I neared the apartment I decided to ring Phil. It was late, almost 1am, but I was going to wake him up anyway when I knocked on his door. And I wanted to get some things out first before I saw him. Before my courage failed me and the words died in my throat.

"Dan?" Phil picked up on the third ring, his voice was low and sleepy. If I felt any guilt whatsoever at waking him up it was drowned by my nervousness. By the shaking of palms and the shortness of breath.

"Um... hi. Sorry for waking you."

I heard rustling on the other side of the line. My best guess was that Phil was sitting up. "No, no, no. It's not a problem. Really. Is everything okay?"

I thought about that for a moment. Was everything okay? No. But better than it had been? Most definitely. Because I had Phil. And Phil made everything that little bit better.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just... went for a walk to clear my head," I said, squinting at street signs as I tried to remember my way to Phil's apartment. Our apartment.

"At this time of night? That's not exactly safe, Dan. I think you should head home."

I smiled. That's exactly where I was headed. "Okay. You'll have to unlock the door for me though. I don't have my key on me."

There was pause. A pause that indicated confusion, then understanding, then probably even more confusion. "What... what do you mean?" Phil asked.

"I mean that I'm here in London. Outside your building. Right now." I grinned as I imagined the incredulous look on Phil's face as he comprehended what I was saying.

"You... you're... what?"

"I'm here. I needed a break from studying and I wanted to see you... and so I'm here." It seemed like a rational decision at the time. But standing outside his apartment, shivering against the cold and the air eery with Phil's silence, I wasn't so sure. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

"And... if it's okay with you... I'd like to stay for good," I mumbled. "Because I was an idiot to leave in the first place."

I held my breath as I waited for a reply. I was fairly confident that Phil would let me move back in. That's just the kind of person he was. But the tiny voice of paranoia in the back of my head tried to convince me otherwise.

As I raised my fist to knock on the door it swung open. "Well don't just stand there. Come on in."

I let my arm fall back to my side and stared at Phil, who grinned widely back at me.

His hair was messy and pushed back, his glasses were perched crookedly on the bridge of his nose, and he was dressed in a plain tee and checkered pyjama pants.

And I'd never seen a more attractive person in my life.

I smiled back feebly, my stomach twisting nervously. Though nervousness didn't even begin to cover the whirlwind of emotions going on inside of me.

 **A/N - I'm terrible, I'm sorry. I don't know why you guys have stuck with me. What is consistency? What is work ethic? I don't have either of those things. apparently.**

 **You know who does? GypsyRover from wattpad** ( my. /UiNb/bwvRmdrGEA) **You should definitely head on over to her profile and read her stories. One, because she's so talented and amazing. Two, because I forgot to mention that we wrote a story together! It's a phan soulmate AU called In Your Dreams and it's updated everyday and it's very cool and I'd really, really love it if you went to check it out. I'm so proud of our baby :3** ( my. /UiNb/mLclE2zGEA)

 **Lots of love from your unreliable and apologetic author.**


	19. Chapter 19

**PHIL P.O.V**

I wasn't expecting Dan to want to see me again so soon. I wasn't expecting him to hop on a train and rock up at my door in the middle of the night. I wasn't expecting him to look at me, consideringly, for a few moments before leaning in to plant his lips on mine.

But those are all things that happened. All of them. Even that last one.

I staggered at first, not because he leapt at me with enough force to knock me back but simply out of pure shock. Surely this was a dream. Surely I was still sleeping.

Dan's hands came up to my waist instinctively as if to catch me, his fingertips ghosting lightly across my sides. It was a hesitant touch, feather light and easily broken, as if he were giving me permission to do just that: break it. But why on earth would I want to?

I kissed him back fervently when I finally overcame my surprise, my hands coming up to his chest and fisting in the fabric of his shirt. My grip was stronger than the one he had on me. For him this was the first time, which explained his uncertainty. But I was an addict, finally given another hit after months of sobriety.

There are some things that you can experience over and over again and the thrill you feel from it in no way diminishes. The excitement, the adrenaline, the butterflies - it's all just as amazing and intense as the very first time.

Kissing Dan was one of those experiences.

My skin still tingled. My legs still turned to jelly. Sparks still coursed through my veins, electrifying me from head to toe and filling me with a buzz akin to that of downing a hundred shots of coffee in one sitting. It wasn't hard to get addicted.

My memory in no way exaggerated the pleasure of it all. If anything, it undersold it. For it was a million times better than I could ever remember.

In that moment I was so utterly content. Like I'd been starved for oxygen and could now breathe freely. Like I'd been dying of thirst and then the heavens had opened up. I didn't realise just how much I'd missed this, and now that I had I never wanted to stop.

But Dan hesitantly pulled away, his shirt slipping from my now slackened grasp. His hands dropped from my sides and returned to his own as he took a small step back. His breathing was ragged and uneven, no doubt matching the irregular pattern of my own laboured breathing.

"I'm sorry," Dan whispered. He was staring at me in shock, cheeks flushed and eyes alight.

And I stared right back, forgetting for a moment that conversation was generally two sided. "F-for what?" I stuttered at last.

Dan blinked but didn't answer right away. "I don't know," he said uncertainly. "That... wasn't my plan."

I swallowed thickly, struggling to compile my scattered thoughts. "What _was_ your plan?" I asked.

Confusion was woven in his furrowed brows as he pondered his answer. "I... don't know."

I chuckled. "Can we stick with this one then? It was off to a good start."

Dan breathed out a nervous laugh and ran a trembling hand through his hair. All of him was trembling actually. And regardless of whether it was from the cold of the night or the event that just unfolded, I had the strongest urge to pull him into a hug and hold him until whatever it was - the chill, the nerves - leeched out of his system.

But for the time being I resisted the urge and went with ushering him inside and offering him a drink instead.

While making Dan his hot chocolate, which he finally agreed to after my repeated insistence, I noticed that my hands were also shaking. And my heart rate was still elevated. And I found myself struggling to maintain eye contact.

I was nervous, I realised, and I tried to tell myself that my nervousness was irrational. _Calm down. It's just Dan. You've kissed Dan before. This is nothing new._

But it was new. The circumstances were new. Our relationship was new. We'd knocked down the house and started rebuilding the foundations. Working our way up from nothing.

And this was a huge step in that process. A massive unexpected advancement in this new relationship. And all of a sudden I was twenty two year old Phil. Excited and anxious to meet the cute boy I'd been talking to online.

We were meeting in real life all over again. But instead of the train station it was happening at our apartment. Instead of planned it was spontaneous. Instead of Starbucks it was homemade hot chocolates, served out of dorky mugs.

It was different and I was okay with that. If anything I loved it even more. If that was even possible.

I handed the hot chocolate to Dan as he sat on the stool at the breakfast bar, where he'd been watching me make his drink. "Thanks," he mumbled, not yet taking a sip but simply wrapping his hands around the mug and allowing the warmth to seep into him that way. He was avoiding my eyes as best he as could and his cheeks were still stained pink from earlier.

"Figured out that plan, yet?" I asked, after a considerably long period of silence.

Dan finally took a sip before answering, stalling as he thought about what to say. After licking his lips and placing his mug back down he spoke. "I quit."

I raised my eyebrows. "Seriously?" I saw it coming. Not that I didn't believe he could do it - Dan's one of the smartest people I know - but it wasn't what made him happy. And _as_ one of the smartest people I know he wasn't about to waste his time doing something he hated.

"Well not officially. But I've decided that's what I want to do," Dan said. I nodded along, understanding completely. This was another thing that was different. Dan came to that conclusion a lot quicker than last time. He was braver now. Not as scared to admit that he wanted out.

Not as scared to do a lot of things it would seem. "I've also decided that I'd like to move back," Dan said, moving his mug aside and leaning forward on his elbows. His eyes, now mere inches away from mine, finally met my gaze. "If that's okay with you."

Fireworks exploded in my chest and I did my best to hide them from outside view. However the smile that graced my lips could not be hid. I leaned forward instinctively until we were so close that I could feel his breath and count his eyelashes.

"I'd love nothing more."


	20. Chapter 20

**DAN P.O.V**

 _I kissed Phil. I kissed Phil. I kissed Phil_. That was the only thought that my brain was capable of forming. And it was a persistent one at that. But I was trying to sleep, and wouldn't be able to do so with all that racket.

What time was it? Late, most likely. It had seemed like hours since I'd arrived at our apartment. Years since we'd kissed. Centuries since we'd sipped hot chocolate while talking idly bout nothing of worth, both of us too nervous to address what had just happened. And I'd been laying there in my bed ever since, trying to fall asleep as if everything were normal. Which wasn't working.

By that point my eyes were starting to become sore but they too refused to rest. Stubborn eyes. Silly eyes. They'd surely regret it the next day.

But I suppose I couldn't really blame my mind or my eyes. I should have been blaming Phil. It was him who postponed my sleep, then and during the weeks prior to that moment. He doesn't do it intentionally, but he does it nonetheless. He continually creeps into my mind and refuses to leave. How rude of him. How invasive of him.

Though if I'm being honest I kind of like it. Because there's nothing I'd rather think about more. No one's smile I'd rather have plastered in my mind, and no one's voice I'd rather have echoing through my brain.

I was falling for my idol. Anyone with eyes could see that.

And he was sleeping right next door. A thin wall of plaster the only thing separating us. When did that happen? How did I get so lucky? I still couldn't remember, but I was so incredibly grateful.

I decided I wasn't close enough though. I wanted to see him. I wanted to hear his rhythmic breathing. Feel his steady heartbeat. I wanted that constant confirmation that this wasn't a dream. That I was, in fact, here in this apartment. In this life. In this reality.

I did knock, albeit softly. Because truth be told I kind of didn't want Phil to wake up. I didn't want him to question what I was doing and cause me to second guess myself. But it would be weird if I didn't alert him to my presence and walked in unannounced while he slept.

I didn't hear a reply so I opened the door anyway, peeking my head through the gap. "Phil? You awake?" I whispered.

He mumbled incoherently in response and I paused, not sure what to do next. I should've probably left - I'd disrupted his sleep enough for one night - but I really didn't want to. "Phil," I said a little louder and after a few seconds he stirred, sitting up and squinting at me through half lidded eyes.

It was nearing morning, but no sign of morning light as of that moment. The faint light from the street lamps outside was the only thing illuminating the room. "Dan?" he asked. I froze with my hand still on the door knob. "What's up?"

"I, uh…" I stalled, trying to think of a way to articulate my thoughts as to not sound crazy. A way to say 'I'd like to sleep with you' that didn't sound creepy or suggestive. "I was just wondering if you were up."

Phil paused for a moment before answering. "At this time? No. No, is the answer for ordinary people," he said with a slight chuckle. My cheeks reddened but it was gratefully hidden by the darkness. "Couldn't sleep?" Phil continued.

"I… yeah." I whispered. "Something like that." I omitted the part about it being his fault. About him being the cause of my insomnia.

And he didn't even need to hear it apparently. Because whether he knew it or not he offered me the cure. He shifted over to the furthest side of the bed, pulled the blanket back, and patted the now exposed and unoccupied side. A silent invitation for me to join.

"You sure?" I asked hesitantly. I showed no indication of moving from my position in the doorway. My fingers stayed locked to the chilly door handle and my feet glued to the carpet. The offer was too perfect to be real.

"Of course. Now hurry up, so I can fall back to sleep," Phil laughed, already lying back down and rolling onto his side so that he was no longer facing me. I didn't need to be told twice so I stepped inside, closed the door softly behind me, and crawled under the covers with Phil.

We didn't spoon or anything. We didn't even touch. But this was enough for me. Enough to strengthen my tether to reality.

And this version of Phil was far better than the pixelated one from my laptop screen or the cognitive one that constantly invaded my mind. The living, breathing, corporeal Phil was a thousand times better than all the others. Even a sleeping one still trumped them all.

Everything was less confusing around Phil. It all seemed less chaotic and jumbled and complicated. My future seemed less frightening as long as I could imagine him woven into it. It was a new feeling, and an amazing one at that.

Up until then there was nothing I wanted more in the world than my memories back. But I realised, in that moment, that there was. If given the choice between remembering my past or having Phil in my future, I'd choose the latter. No question about it.

I'd rather have Phil than remember.


	21. Chapter 21

**PHIL P.O.V**

It didn't seem possible to love someone this much. Surely this much affection, this much adoration, was unhealthy for one person to possess.

From his lips and the way they moved, to the words they formed. To his eyes framed by long brown lashes only shades lighter than the irises they protected. From his dimpled cheeks to the lobes of his ears. From the way his hair shone in the early morning sun, down to every last freckle on his body.

I was helplessly in love with every little detail. If granted the opportunity I would ramble on for centuries praising all aspects of his being. To give him an idea of what it's like to look at him through my eyes, so he could understand my infatuation.

I had the luxury of staring at him for a solid five minutes before he woke up. It took all of my self-control to restrict it to merely looking but I managed. "Hey," I mumbled, acting like I'd only just woken up myself.

Dan's eyelids - after fluttering sleepily a few times - closed once again. The hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Hey," he murmured in response.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked. I wanted so badly to run my hands through his fringe just for the sake of it but restrained myself. Instead I settled for simply imagining it.

Dan mumbled what I think was a very sleepy 'good' in response. "What do you want to do today?" I asked, though to be honest, the idea of us both staying in bed all day, only getting up for snack and bathroom breaks, sounded like a good plan to me.

Dan rolled onto his back and stretched his arms out. My eyes followed the movement with avid veneration. "Hmmm... you want to give me that tour of London?"

"What if you get recognised?" I asked.

Dan looked up at the ceiling and paused for a moment before answering with, "I'll wear a fake moustache." I chuckled and nudged his side under the blanket. "No, really," he insisted. "We both will. And maybe some wigs. I'm thinking an afro for me... and maybe pigtails for you. Bring back Phillipa."

Laughing, I propped myself up on an elbow, grabbed my pillow, and playfully hit him in the face with it. "Hey guys!" Dan mocked, unperturbed by my attack. "My name's Phillipa. Phillipa Jonas, one day." The fact that he was quoting an obscure video of mine from the very beginning of my YouTube days made me feel insanely happy. Cringey, too. But still happy.

I attempted to muffle his words with the pillow but he fought back and - in between laughs - continued to impersonate me. Laughing along with him, I soon had Dan pinned to the bed and decided to recklessly abandon my self restraint and lean down to kiss him. My brain thought that was a good idea and my body naïvely jumped on board with it.

It got him to stop talking, that's for sure. It was a soft kiss. A chaste kiss. I was aware of my morning breath and didn't think it fair to subject Dan to that with a passionate, open mouthed kiss. I gently pulled back but stayed hovering above him. I met his eyes and waited for him to make the next move. To say the next line. But he didn't do anything. He stared right back, his eyes studying my face and flicking down to my lips occasionally.

"So... tour?" I asked. "We can go on the London Eye," I suggested, thinking back to our first date on the Wheel of Manchester. There was something poetic about having our second first date on a ferris wheel too.

But we weren't recreating our old story, I had to remind myself. We were writing a new one. And when I stopped trying to put everything back the way it used to be, that's when the story moved forward.

"Or... we could stay here?" I ended my sentence in a questioning tone, making it clear that it was merely a suggestion and that Dan could shoot me down if he so wished. I sincerely hoped he didn't though.

"We could order some takeout, watch some movies, play some games..." I trailed off. "All your choice, of course," I added. I was hesitant to make any definitive decisions. I wanted to let the universe take the reigns for once, instead of me forcing things to happen.

Dan lifted his head up a fraction to return my chaste kiss with a chaste kiss of his own. He smiled up at me. "Okay."

I responded with a quick peck back. "Yeah?"

And Dan responded again in a similar fashion. "Yeah."

I felt the flood of excitement at the prospect of spending the whole day with Dan, and only Dan, away from the prying eyes of the public and being able to steal kisses whenever I wanted. I went to climb off the bed but Dan quickly stopped me. His hands came up to grab hold of my waist and keep me in place. "Where are you going?" he pouted.

I chuckled but made no effort to break his touch. I was enjoying the tingles it sent racing through my body. "To brush my teeth," I explained casually, doing my best to keep the longing out of my voice.

"Right now?" Dan asked, his voice tinged with disappointment. And it was just the cutest thing ever. His little pout, his creased forehead, the way he still didn't release his hold on me even though it was evidently clear that I had stopped trying to get up.

Scratch that. _Everything_ he did was the cutest thing ever. I don't know what I did to deserve front seat tickets to such cuteness but I was so incredibly grateful for it.

"If I don't brush my teeth," I began, struggling to find my voice and keep it at a regular octave, "how can I kiss you properly?" Perhaps such flirtiness was too early for this new relationship but I couldn't help it. I constantly walked a tightrope between childlike innocence and overt flirtiness. It was incredibly easy for me to flit between the two.

Dan didn't seemed to mind though. Other than the shakiness of his breath and the pink tinge to his cheeks, he didn't seem too affected by it at all.

"Like this," he said simply, pulling me down for a not-so-chaste kiss.

* * *

 **...And a thousand years later she decides to update!  
** **My sincerest apologies to anyone still following this story. Please take this fluff, as a token of my appreciation.  
So no, that last chapter wasn't the end, to those who were asking. But I will be finishing it soon. Like, a couple chapters soon. And I will try my very, very best not to take a six month hiatus between these last few chapters. You have my word. Cross my hearts. And hope to fly. **


	22. Chapter 22

**EPILOGUE**

 **PHIL P.O.V**

It's been eight months since the accident. Seven months since Dan woke up. Five months since I watched him walk out on me. And three months since I finally got him back. My Dan.

The internet got him back as well. Not the exact one that they remembered - he did a little bit of re-branding - but Dan is still Dan. I no longer mourn over who he was, and instead admire who he is. I'm so immensely proud of him, and how far he's come. He's more confident now. More open. More willing to accept help. And above all else, he's happier than I've ever seen him.

He doesn't remember, and he probably never will. I still have the memories of the forgotten years, and I'm going to cling to them for the rest of my life. They survive through me, and me alone now. As long as I have them, then they still exist. As long as I have them, those moments will not have been for nothing.

And instead of viewing them as a token of what was lost, I use them as a reminder to immerse myself in moments. When I look back, I want to be able to remember what the weather was like. What shirt I was wearing. What cereal I ate for breakfast. All the little details. I want to soak them all up and engage in the now, so that these new memories that I'm making are sure to stick.

This moment occurring right now I hope to carry with me through the rest of my years. I've always loved listening to Dan playing piano. And I like being able to watch it up close, as I sit next to him on the stool. It annoys Dan when I do this. He says he needs the space to be able to play properly, but I can never tell the difference. It always sounds flawless to me anyway.

He's been playing piano more and more recently. The songs that he learnt over the years never truly left him, and bits of them remain lodged in his repertoire thanks to his muscle memory. It takes a few tries to figure it out, but he always does in the end. And it's always accompanied by this cute little smile that reveals how chuffed he really is with himself. How could I not want to view that up close?

I've never been a big believer in the extraordinary. Which might come as a surprise to some people, especially when you compare me to Dan - whose default setting seemed to logic and skepticism.

But I never did believe. I _wanted_ to believe. In miracles, in karma, in fate, in the mystic powers of the universe. In _something_. Something beyond human comprehension.

I always remained hopeful but I had my doubts. I had no solid reasoning to believe in any of it. I would write a lot of things off as coincidence, or luck, or chance. Because reason told me that's what they were.

But have you ever had something happen to you that you just couldn't explain? That adamantly defied all logic? And thought to yourself, _surely_ something greater is at play here?

Perhaps I'm just being sappy, to view Dan as my soulmate, but I can't think of how else to describe it. I've been attracted to people before. I've felt connections with people before. I've been in love with people before. But this was something different.

Some people just _belong_ in your life. They fit so perfectly there, it's like it was designed that way. And without them, it feels wrong. It feels incomplete. It feels empty.

And I think that's because it _was_ designed that way. Like there's some omnipotent power forcing your paths to intersect. Worldly matters and human unpredictability get in the way sometimes. But ultimately, if it's meant to be the paths will merge. And there's nothing that can be done to reroute them.

Not stubbornness. Not mistakes. Not amnesia, even. In any context, in any situation, in any alternate universe, I have no doubt that Dan and I would be in each other's lives. The circumstances could change entirely and I think that we'd still find each other. We'd still love each other. We'd still be inextricably intertwined.

Because that's how it's meant to be. Dan and Phil. It's written in the stars.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sudden absence of sound, as Dan's fingers froze on the piano keys.

I assumed he'd just forgotten how the next part went. But then I noticed him staring. Not down at his hands but at the little cat sticker that I put on his piano years ago. I smiled, recalling the vlog where he first discovered it and attempted to act annoyed but failed to hide his grin.

"You said those stickers were so cheap they'd never stick to anything longer than a week," I chuckled, paraphrasing his words at the time of the purchase. It was a late night shopping trip and I decided to buy them on a whim, much to Dan's disapproval.

"Yeah, I know," Dan whispered. "I remember that."

* * *

 **I wrote this a couple of months ago but never posted it because I was super unhappy with it :( I'm quite proud of this story and I think it deserves a much better ending, but I tried so hard and I couldn't get it right. I felt really bad leaving you guys hanging though, especially when I gave you my word I would finish it. So here it is. I'm really, really sorry if it's disappointing.**

 **Thank you to everyone who left me so many lovely comments and messages of encouragement. I go back through and read them when I'm having a down day and they make me so happy. Thank you so so so much. You're all such wonderful people and I love each and every one of you :)**


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